The Bracelet
by AkashaTheKitty
Summary: Hermione has everything she could possibly want... Except a life. People are getting sick of her superior attitude, especially Draco Malfoy, who schemes to get her down, once and for all. And then there's the thing with The Bracelet... 7th year AR. COMPLETE SINCE 2009 XD
1. Chapter 1

**January 2013 note: Just to save everyone a little time - this fic is a bit of a soap. It's meant to be a bit of a soap. If you do not enjoy constant misunderstandings and obtuse teens, then this is probably not something you'll enjoy reading. If you do not like it when Draco isn't immediately forgiven for years of abusive behaviour, then very few of my stories will please you. Oh, and yes, there are some pissed off A/Ns on this story. I had some extremely rude people bugging me. Just skip them. I don't think any of my A/Ns are relevant at this point in time. **

**I am extremely gratified that this story is still getting reviews and favourites, and I do read the reviews in full. However, if you'd like a reply, try contacting me on Twitter or Tumblr. I don't really log in here much these days. :)**

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**All right, this is new territory for me. Never did a 7th year AU before and never tried managing as many characters as I try to manage in this one. Be gentle. :)**

**Oh, and check out the banner for this one from my profile. It's awesome, thanks Svelte Rose :) **

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The seventh years were having Charms. Most subjects saw a dwindling in amount of students taking them in the sixth year, and even more so as a few realized they had taken on too much and dropped it in seventh year. That wasn't exactly the case here. Twenty-five students from all four houses had chosen to stick with this particular subject, which actually made the class larger than in previous years. It was the last class of the day and it was Friday, so most students were feeling restless. Most, but not all.

Hermione's hand shot up. "Wendelin the Weird was burnt at the stake 47 times, Sir!" she eagerly responded to the teacher.

There were a few moans and grumbles from her classmates and she looked over her shoulder frowning. She didn't understand these displays that were happening more and more frequently whenever she answered a question. There was a snort, and her eyes flew to the culprit. It was Draco Malfoy, of course, meeting her eyes with his very own derisive gaze. Her frown deepened. Well, at least _he _had _always_ been like that.

"Err, yes, Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick said in his usual amiable voice. "And how did she survive this?" He looked expectantly at the class, who, for the most part just, stared blankly back. Someone coughed. He sighed. "Miss Granger?" The class groaned again and he leveled a stern look in their direction.

"With a Flame-Freezing Charm, Sir," she responded, mostly unperturbed by everyone's reactions, but kicking Ron hard under the desk as he, too, rolled his eyes and muttered something. Really, he was supposed to be her friend.

"Correct," the Professor replied and then continued to show them how to freeze the flames while Ron's eyes teared up and he bent to rub his shin. Behind him, Mandy Brocklehurst from Ravenclaw was giggling.

Soon after, the class was busy trying to freeze their own flames. Hermione, of course, got it right in but a few tries and was smirking to herself as she was running her hand through the flames and feeling nothing but warm, comfortable air.

"Very good, Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick praised and Hermione's smirk widened to a beam.

"_Very good, Miss Granger,_" someone imitated as soon as Flitwick was out of earshot and there was a burst of giggles. Hermione ignored them.

"Oi, Granger!" Malfoy called from where he was standing near the others from his house. "Mind stepping into my flames to see if I've got this right?" There was laughing again.

Hermione glared at him, but he only smirked and turned to talk to Zabini, who was still chuckling, and Nott, who was valiantly trying to hide a smile. Professor Flitwick had chosen to hear the request as a legitimate one and was rushing to check out Malfoy's flame, which, to Hermione's great annoyance, was, indeed, frozen correctly.

Harry and Ron were making an effort to help each other and even though Hermione wouldn't mind helping Harry, she was still sore with Ron, so she turned to help Neville instead. She gained a perverse satisfaction when he succeeded before Ron did. Harry had managed to do fine on his own, but Ron was really struggling and he was holding his wand all wrong.

Hermione deliberately turned her back on him and glanced back at the Slytherin group, where most of them were now just talking. Only one of them hadn't gotten it right by now: Daphne Greengrass, a comparably unremarkable girl, considering some of the egomaniacs residing in her house. Daphne let out a frustrated sound and Zabini moved to help her. Before he could get to her, though, Malfoy had waved him off and he went to the girl himself, placing one hand on her wrist and one hand on her waist, pulling her close. She wasn't a very tall girl and her head only reached his chin. He winked lewdly at his friends and bent to whisper in the girl's ear. She blushed and Hermione narrowed her eyes, appalled at Malfoy's behavior. Word had it that he was going with Pansy Parkinson, who, conveniently enough, had _not_ taken Charms, and this was how he behaved? Before Hermione had a chance to voice her opinion, however, Daphne had flicked her wand and was squealing with glee over the charm being successful, and Malfoy had let her go and had gone over to talk to his friends again.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to her own friends, only to yelp in surprise as Ron's fire burst high enough to lick the ceiling with its sweltering heat. Hermione took a few steps backwards, slowly shaking her head, unable to comprehend how any try at a Flame-_Freezing_ Charm could do _that_, and she heard people whooping and cheering at Ron, whose face now resembled a tomato in its coloring. Flitwick hurried over to get the fire under control, admonished Ron to be more careful and practice some more, and then he dismissed the class with a resigned shake of his head.

Just another Friday afternoon.

Hermione quickly got her bag and began filing out with the others. She had a meeting with the headmaster and the Head Boy in just half an hour and she'd like to get to her room and get out of her work-robes before that.

"What did you say to her?" Zabini was asking Malfoy a few steps in front of her as everyone was filing down the corridor. "I've never seen her blush like that."

Malfoy chuckled. "I was just teaching her something about _Charms._"

Hermione couldn't hold back a snort, which they obviously heard, because both boys turned to look at her. Cool brown eyes in a dark face crowned by black hair and arrogant grey eyes in a pale face under slicked back blond hair. The physical differences between the two boys really were uncanny, but as for any other differences – they were both Slytherin to the core.

"Hard to teach something you don't know, Malfoy," she scathingly commented.

His eyebrows went up. "And… _you_ do?" he asked. "Is that why you're so popular with the boys, Granger?" Both he and Zabini began laughing at this and they turned and left without waiting for her answer.

Of course, she didn't really have an answer. Nothing that would put him in his place, anyway. She _wasn't_ very popular with the boys. She generally put it down to her not being a very girly girl and boys her age being intimidated by her brains, but trust _them_ not to get that.

She was scowling in their general direction when Harry and Ron caught up with her.

"What's the rush?" Ron asked, having seemingly forgotten their little skirmish in class. Hermione decided to let it go as well. After all, she _had_ gotten in a really good kick.

"I have to hurry back and change; I have a meeting in…" She checked her watch. "25 minutes." She sped up her pace.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "How's Head Girl working out? It's been a month, any casualties yet?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's going fine."

"I still can't believe that they made a Slytherin Head Boy," Ron grumbled.

Hermione's eyebrows went up and she shot Ron and amused glance. "Oh, yeah? Who else would be Head Boy? You?" She couldn't hold back a less than flattering giggle and Ron scowled at her.

"Or Harry! He hasn't got too much on his plate this year! It's not required to be a Prefect first, you know. _He_ wasn't both years, either, I'll have you remember!"

Harry shook his head. "Count me out," he said. "I'm perfectly happy being Quidditch Captain and having actual free time."

"Then what about Ernie Macmillan," Ron insisted. "He's got… Head Boy qualities."

"You can't be serious!" Hermione shrieked. "Ernie's so pompous and you'd have me work with him _all year_?"

"She's got a point, mate," Harry interjected. "It would be like Percy all over again."

"So, are you saying you actually _like_ him?" Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't. But I don't have to like him to think that he's right for the job. He's good at keeping the Slytherins in check and he's really decent to most other students – oh, don't look at me like that, Ron – he _is._ It's mostly the three of us that the Slytherins don't like and that's because, well…"

"Because I'm The Boy Who Lived and you are my friends," Harry coolly interjected. "And also because Hermione beats them in most classes," he hurried to add when Hermione was frowning slightly at him.

She sighed. It was true that the Slytherins didn't like having their thunder stolen by anyone, and Harry had certainly done his bit of thunder-stealing. His best friend being a Muggleborn who scored higher than any one of them in all the tests didn't help matters much, either. Lately, though, it had been as if there was something else, some other reason. Like, today, she distinctively noticed Megan Jones roll her eyes at Wayne Hopkins along with the rest of the class, and they'd then proceeded to whisper while shooting glances at her. They were both in Hufflepuff and unbiased by blood status, so she had no clue what she had done to deserve that from _them_. It stung a bit.

Bracing herself, she tamped these thoughts down. She wasn't the most popular girl in school, but she was Head Girl, so she had no time or _reason_ for self pity. Reaching the Gryffindor common room, she hurriedly said goodbye to her friends before rushing up to her room, pulling off her robes, grabbing a jumper, and running a brush through her hair, before she sprinted down the stairs again. Six minutes to go.

Soon she was standing before the gargoyle on seventh floor, panting a bit. "Turkish delight," she said, checking her watch. Four minutes. She had made good time. The gargoyle leapt aside and Hermione braved the moving stairs and when she reached the door at the top of them, she straightened herself out before she politely knocked and waited until told to enter.

"Ahh, Miss Granger," Dumbledore was saying as she did so. "Right on time. But I see you've come alone." He gestured for her to sit down.

"Alone?" she asked, still a bit breathless and now confused, too.

"Yes, I was expecting the Head Boy, as well," he clarified.

"Oh! Well, I'm sure he'll be here in just a second. I had to hurry to make it and my dormitory is close, I'm sure it takes quite a bit longer if you have to go to… the… dungeons…" her voice faltered a bit as Dumbledore's somewhat amused gaze unnerved her.

"Always the spirit of fairness, I see, Miss Granger," he said, chuckling. "But the fact of the matter remains: He was given the same time as you, yes?"

Hermione was getting a bit uncomfortable. She didn't like being on the spot like this because the Head Boy couldn't be punctual. She wasn't his keeper for Merlin's sake! She squirmed in her seat, trying to think of what to say. After a few minutes, the silence became too much. "I, uhm, am sure he'll be here in just—"

There was a knock on the door.

"—a second," Hermione finished the thought on a relieved breath. Finally. She snuck a peek at her watch. In all fairness, he was only five minutes late.

"Enter!" Dumbledore called out and then gestured for the boy to sit down when he did.

"Granger," he mumbled as he took his seat.

"Nott," Hermione replied with barely a nod.

Theodore Nott wasn't actually _that_ bad to work with apart from the unfortunate details that he disliked Muggleborns, although to his credit he didn't flaunt that fact, and that he was… well… Slytherin. Other than that, he was really just this quiet, stringy boy, who was as pale as Malfoy, but had brown, curly hair and dark, thoughtful eyes hidden behind glasses.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor Dumbledore," Nott said in his soft voice, offering no excuse. That was his way. He rarely said more than was called for and he assumed that if he needed to excuse himself, then he would be asked to do so.

"No matter, Mr. Nott, you're here now," Dumbledore said. "The reason why I wanted to see you both is because I've decided to make one small change. One that will benefit you both, I hope."

"Change, Sir?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently at her. "Yes, Miss Granger. You see, in the best of times, being Head Student is hard work. In these times, however, it may prove to be a close to insurmountable task. So I would like for each of you to appoint a Deputy. An assistant, if you like."

"But…" Hermione frowned. "Isn't that what the Prefects are for?"

"I'd prefer it if you chose a seventh year girl to help you, Miss Granger. She would be sharing your tasks and now, more than ever, it takes a good deal of maturity to shoulder these tasks."

"Is it because of You-Know-Who?" Nott quietly asked.

Hermione felt the need to swallow something constricting her throat. Most days she forgot that Nott's father had been one of the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries a little over a year ago. It just seemed so long ago, so unreal, and she had a hard time truly understanding that those masked men were the _fathers_ of some of her classmates – no matter how much she might dislike those particular classmates.

"Yes, it is, Mr. Nott," Dumbledore replied a little sadly. "The war is taking its toll. In spite of what happened – and almost happened – here at the school last year, Hogwarts is still a safe place. But the students are still afraid. They are worried about their families and their future. Naturally, the teaching staff will always be available, but for most of the student body, talking to other students will probably be preferable to speaking to dry old teachers, don't you think? Each of you think of a candidate for a Deputy and come back to discuss it with me before too long."

With that they were dismissed and they both got up and left the headmaster's office. Hermione was deep in thought until they were on the other side of the gargoyle. With barely a glance in her direction, Nott turned to go down to the dungeons.

"Hey, Nott," Hermione said before he could take two steps. "Perhaps we should choose deputies from the other Houses? To be a little more accessible to the school at large?"

Nott just shrugged and walked on.

Hermione went the other way.

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**Let me hear what you think. If you think anything, that is ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a reminder... I know that many writers here on ffnet just type down whatever comes into their mind and it ends up not making a lot of sense because there is no overall plan... I _have_ a plan, and to execute my plan I need to do some certain characterizations. You don't like what I'm doing? Then I'm not forcing you to read it. Constructive criticism is not telling me what _you_ would like to see in a fic. It's giving me feedback that might help me in writing _any_ kind of fiction. Thank you.**

**Thanks to _kazfeist_ for being superfast grammar nazi, and to everyone who has been giving me feedback all over the place. Especially _Maz_ for being a royal pain in the ass and _MissNibbles_ for trying _not_ to be a royal pain in the ass.**

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Hermione experienced a brief and unexpected burst of popularity as word got out that she was in need of a Deputy Head Girl and she would have free reign in choosing one. Suddenly, every girl in her year was vying for her attention and everyone was her new best friend. It was bothersome. Mostly because it really brought home how few people really cared to talk to her on a normal basis.

Ultimately, she decided on Padma Patil for her Deputy. Parvati was a little bit peeved but also proud of her sister. The reasons for Hermione choosing Padma were many. Her being clever, of another house, and reasonably popular weighed heavily in Hermione's decision. Another reason was Parvati. Not meaning that it was because Parvati was Hermione's friend, even though Hermione sort of supposed she was, but if it was really going to be a matter of having students unburdening on them, then Padma would at least have Parvati to unburden on in turn. It was sort of a "two for the price of one" thing. All in all, Hermione felt pretty good about her decision, and it was cleared with the headmaster in no time. Unsurprisingly, once this was settled, she was back to being largely ignored unless someone needed something from her.

She liked it this way, anyway.

Wednesday, she went to her office to meet with Nott as she did every Wednesday. Well, technically, it was _their_ office, but he hardly seemed to use it when he didn't have to. It was situated on the fifth floor and it was a comfortable working environment, big enough for them to lead their prefect meetings in there when they needed to. They hadn't been having a lot of those, either, though. Nott had insisted that as long as everyone knew their schedules, and there weren't any dire problems, they needn't inconvenience themselves and each other.

She supposed that there _hadn't_ really been any reasons to push on yet, but she was just eager to prove herself. So far, being Head Girl had proven to be far less challenging than she had thought. Secretly, she was a little bit disappointed. She had somehow thought there would be more problems for her to solve. More things for her to arrange. More than just docking points off first years for running in the hall.

As she entered the office, she heard soft voices from the other side of the room, where a couple of comfortable armchairs stood in front of the fire with their backs to the door. There was also a couch, but that was unoccupied. Checking her watch, she realized that she was a few minutes early and that Nott had probably chosen to use this office to help someone before their meeting. She then proceeded to go around the conference table and over to her desk to sort out some other things while Nott wrapped up his session.

She was just about to go over a recent change to the Prefects' schedule, when she heard the person Nott was talking to laugh and her spine chilled. She spun around and from here she could clearly see who was sprawled out on one of the armchairs. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

"Nott, this isn't the place for social calls," she said as calmly as she could. "Could you please ask your friend to leave, so we can get started?" She deliberately avoided looking at the friend in question again and turned back to her desk, fully expecting him to leave.

"This isn't a social call," Nott calmly replied. "Meet my Deputy."

Hermione spun around again to be met with grey eyes filled with malicious glee. No, reality hadn't decided to refold and change; it was still Draco Malfoy sitting there.

"_This_ was the best you could do?" she blurted out. "I know you two are… friendly…" To say that Nott had friends could be termed a stretch by anyone's imagination. "But didn't we agree to choose someone from different houses?"

"Not really," Nott replied. "I had already decided. You, on the other hand, were free to choose whoever you wished. And so you did, I assume."

Hermione rubbed her temple, which was starting to ache. "What did Dumbledore have to say about this?"

"He bloody well approved, Granger, or do you think there's any way I'd still be here listening to you?" Draco angrily interrupted. "And I can see why Theo needs backup – being around you all the time would drive anyone bonkers."

Hermione's lips tightened in a frown as she looked from one to the other. Malfoy was scowling darkly at her and Nott's expression was carefully blank.

"Who did you choose?" Nott asked after a few seconds had passed.

Hermione sighed. "Padma Patil. She's smart and nice and well-suited to—"

"Gryffindor, though, isn't she?" Malfoy interrupted. "Or is that the other one?"

"She's_Ravenclaw_," Hermione bit out. "She used to be a prefect."

"Still, same difference, isn't it? When her twin's in Gryffindor and all." Draco smirked at her in his most annoying way.

"Maybe to you it would be. At least I _tried_ to go outside my House!" She directed a pointed glare at Nott.

"Yes, leaving poor Theo here to find himself a nice Hufflepuff to confide all his work in," Draco said, ignoring that she had just tried to dismiss him. "Did you _really_ think that would happen?" He leaned forward with his arms resting on his knees, mocking her with his whole demeanor.

Hermione gnashed her teeth. "Why am I still talking to you? Shoo! There's no need for you here."

"Ahh, but that's up to Theo to decide, isn't it?" he asked, leaning back again. "Us Deputies are supposed to step in when something becomes too much for you Heads. Of course, nothing ever becomes too much for Potter's Mudblood Wonder Girl, but I'm suspecting that Theo ends up with frequent Head Girl-induced headaches."

Hermione gaped at his audacity. "You obviously haven't got a clue what you're talking about," she finally managed to grit out, feeling her very own Malfoy-induced headache taking root. "Which shouldn't surprise me, really. You've always been quick to show your ignorance and doing it so well that there could be no question as to just _how_ stupid you really are!"

At that, Draco shot out of his chair, startling Hermione enough that she took a step backwards before she could gather herself. There was no telling what he would have done if Nott hadn't chosen that moment to speak.

"Draco," he calmly said. "I'll see you back in the common room in half an hour, ok?"

For a second, Draco looked as if he still might throttle Hermione, but then he just sneered at her and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Hermione turned to Nott full of righteous indignation. "You expect me to ever work with _that_?"

"You were the one who questioned him, talked down to him and called him ignorant," Nott replied, still calm as ever. "You could hardly expect him to just take it."

Hermione shook her head, knowing full well that Malfoy had never been decent to her a day in his life. "Why did you choose him?" she asked. "There must be someone better."

"He'll do just fine, Granger, if you'll just… leave him alone," Nott replied, making Hermione gape again.

_Her_ leave _him_ alone? Nott had everything backwards! "Why him?" she asked again.

Nott studied her for a second. "He was a Prefect in fifth year."

"Well, yes, but he abused the status and lost it!" Hermione saw it fit to point out.

"No, he did not. His father was revealed to be a Death Eater and sent to Azkaban, and so was mine, as I have no doubt that you already know."

"Well, yes, and I _am _sorry about that mess, but that couldn't have cost him his status. It was the same for you and you _gained_ it that year."

Nott shook his head. "It wasn't the same for me. The Malfoys are somewhat more… well-known? Nobody cared much about what my father had done and I doubt that You-Know-Who even knows I exist. Draco, however, suddenly found himself being punished for the sins of his father from all sides. Snape found out about this during the summer and told Dumbledore about it, and he, in turn, decided to remove the status with its added stress from Draco. And… You're one of the few who actually knows what then happened last year."

She knew. Draco had worked all year on betraying and killing Dumbledore, and he had almost succeeded, but, at the last possible moment, Dumbledore had convinced him that he was not a killer and that the Order could protect him and his mother from Voldemort's wrath, and he had whisked him off. Nobody, except the members of the Order and whoever Draco had chosen to tell, knew about this. Dumbledore had personally sworn everyone to secrecy. As far as the rest of the student body knew, the Death Eater invasion had been a random occurrence due to a weakness in the school's defenses, which had now been repaired.

Of course, the other side also knew, and Lucius Malfoy had actually gone missing from Azkaban not too long ago, but he had seemingly made no efforts to track down his wife and son. It was hard to tell if he really hadn't bothered, or if Draco Malfoy might still turn out to be his father's son. Hermione hadn't quite made up her mind about which was more likely.

She shrugged. "I don't understand why you're telling me this and what it has to do with your choice."

"That's because you aren't listening," Nott said. He wasn't visibly annoyed or raising his voice. He was so very different from Malfoy that it was startling. Hermione had somehow always thought that _all_ Slytherins were like Malfoy. "It has everything to do with my choice," he quietly continued. "If none of all that had happened, then he might have been Head Boy today. He was Dumbledore's first choice for Slytherin, after all. I was only his second."

"I'm sure Dumbledore considered these extenuating circumstances when he decided on a Head Boy," Hermione scoffed. "I don't think anyone has missed out!"

"Perhaps not," Nott conceded. "Or perhaps he was in doubt and then decided against Draco because he knew the Head Girl would be giving him too hard a time about things he could never control."

Before Hermione could think of a suitable answer, Nott had left the office.

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"I can't stand her, I really can't stand her. She'll make a killer of me yet," Draco was ranting and pacing in front of his friends in the Slytherin common room. "She's always so bloody sanctimonious and she calls me clueless, _ME!_ She dares attack me when I've been trapped in some godforsaken safe house all summer, unable to do anything but worry about whether I signed my mother's death warrant by _not_ murdering a defenseless old man."

"Calm down, Draco," Blaise said. "And lower your voice, unless you want everyone to know about that."

Draco threw himself into a chair. "Fucking Mudblood. Nobody even likes her except for those freak friends of hers. She made Head Girl on book-smarts alone. Not the best choice Dumbledore ever made."

"Nobody is arguing with you," Blaise said.

"You know, they were considering not letting me come back for my seventh year at all. They said it would be easier to just pretend I had died until You-Know-Who was brought down… But who knows if he'll ever be? If I can't have a life, then I might as well be dead, you know?"

"We know," Blaise soothed. Draco in an agitated mood was rarely very coherent. Draco himself knew this, but he needed to vent or he would go crazy.

He hadn't always been friends with Blaise Zabini. In fact, he was fairly certain that for the first five and a half years they had mutually found each other to be prats. With his whole emancipation from the Dark Lord, however, he had slowly been finding himself friendless. This was a rather lonely state to be in when the world was a largely unfriendly place, so he had taken steps to get to know Blaise and Theo better. Theo was always holding himself a little aloof, but Blaise had relaxed remarkably around him after he had learned that Draco had no desire to follow in his father's footsteps. Blaise was just as biased as any pureblood, that wasn't what had kept him at a distance; he just didn't want to get caught up with You-Know-Who in any way.

"And in fifth year I ranked second in every bloody class I took with her, except Potions, where I ranked first. I am _not_ stupid! I just have a life, you know?" Draco continued. Of course, he wryly thought, much of his life was centered about trying to make _Potter's_ life miserable, but still… it was a life.

"We_know_," Blaise responded with a heartfelt sigh.

"I swear; if it hadn't been Dumbledore but that annoying…_know-it-all_ that I had been sent to kill, I would just have done it. And been happy about it, too!"

At this, Theo cleared his throat. He had entered several minutes earlier and sat down to wait out the worst of Draco's rant, but he felt he should probably say something right about now. Draco and Blaise both turned to look at him with that mild look of surprise they always had when he first made his presence known. It was funny, that.

"Will you be ok working with her?" he asked. "Or should I find someone else to make Deputy Head Boy?"

"Oh, no you don't!" Draco said, pushing forward in his chair. "She will _not_ ruin this for me. I don't care what she says or what she thinks she knows. She's nothing but some lame geek who couldn't get a date to save her life. But I am _not_ stupid!"

"No, you're not stupid," Theo replied. "Which is why you, of course, understand that if you're to work with the Head Girl at all, then casual death threats might not be a very wise move."

Draco's cheeks flushed slightly at the mild rebuke. He fell back in his chair. "You know I didn't mean that," he mumbled.

"We know," Blaise said with a somewhat amused glance at Theo. "But Theo is right. You might want to… be less vocal about it."

"It's just… I really want to teach her a lesson… Put her in her place, you know?"

"You and half the school, mate," Blaise replied, and Theo remained silent.


	3. Chapter 3

**The usual thanks.**

**Can you tell that I'm not in the mood for A/N's? ;)**

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"So, what exactly is it I do?" Padma asked Hermione, sounding a little nervous as people were filing in for one of their rare Prefect meetings. With sixteen Prefects, two Deputies and the Heads themselves, they'd now be an even 20. Hermione liked that; even numbers were so much easier to manage. 

"Right now?" she asked. "Mostly, you watch."

"And in general?"

"In general, you do nothing, because Wonder Witch here won't let you."

Oh, great. _He_ couldn't just shut up and sit down at the other end of the room?

"_In general_," Hermione said, ignoring Malfoy, who was, of course, the one who had made the remark and was now snorting and taking a seat. "You… Well, you help me." She noticed that Malfoy was barely hiding a grin. "You act as Head Girl for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," she impulsively added and while Padma squealed in excitement, Hermione silently cursed Malfoy for provoking her into giving Padma more than she had wanted to.

Padma immediately went to tell the sixth year Ravenclaw Prefect, who had just entered, and Hermione scowled at Malfoy and noticed that he was now looking startled and rather thoughtful. Right. She'd given up half of all she had dreamed about for six years to provoke a_ thoughtful_ reaction. Shouldn't he at least be spluttering or something, indicating that he hated how severely he'd been wrong?

Not that he had actually been that severely wrong. She didn't want to part with her position. It was _hers_, damn it! She'd worked for it and earned it, fair and square. She didn't _feel_ any strain and she could easily do it all by herself all year. But now, thanks to her own temper, she had even less to do. Great, just great.

She turned her back on him and came face to face with Nott. Damn Slytherins, slithering all over the place. "That was unexpected," he observed.

Hermione colored slightly, knowing that Nott had probably recognized that she had allowed herself to be baited. "Yes, well, it eases my burden, doesn't it?"

He raised his eyebrows. "It does. However, I didn't actually mean that it was unexpected that you divide the houses between you. That seems logical and something you might do."

Hermione was slightly confused. Nott often saw things in a way that was foreign to her, but she could usually somewhat follow him.

"Then what?" she asked.

The corner of Nott's mouth quirked as if he was amused by her and he looked over her shoulder to where Malfoy sat, as if to ask if he got it. She turned around and met Malfoy's gaze straight on as he replied in Nott's stead, "You kept Slytherin."

_Well, of course I kept Slytherin. I don't HATE Padma!_

Hermione had opened her mouth and almost uttered this reply when she noticed Nott's gaze on her and something told her that he knew exactly what she was going to say. She snapped her mouth shut and scowled at the Head Boy and his Deputy in turn. "Slytherin House is one of the more… challenging," she bit out, directed at both of them. "She isn't supposed to do _all_ my chores." She glanced questioningly at Nott again and he inclined his head slightly, acknowledging that she had softened her statement.

"So, what you're saying—" Draco began, hell-bent on bothering the annoying Head Girl, when he was rudely interrupted by Nott.

"I think we should start this meeting since everyone is here."

Theo's gaze was calm and inscrutable, as always, when he looked Draco in the eye, but Draco knew exactly what he was saying. _Stop fighting with her if you want this position._ Draco sighed and made a slight wave with his hand. _Whatever. _It wasn't worth it.

However, it was still funny how she hadn't thought to give the Patil-girl her chores in Slytherin when it was clear to everyone that that was where most of the conflict lay. It would have been sensible of her to let someone else handle them. Of course, there was Theo and himself in Slytherin, and to Draco's great delight he'd found he now had access to the girls' dormitories, but the rules dictated that the Head Boy and Head Girl both divided their time evenly between _all_ Houses.

Doling out half of the Houses to her Deputy had been clever enough. Patil would function as Head Girl for the students there alongside Theo or himself (truth be told, they hadn't really worked out what he'd do yet, he'd just been baiting Granger for the hell of it). But while he could understand why Patil had been given Ravenclaw, he really didn't understand why Granger would prefer to give out Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin. Slytherin was only challenging _her_. A girl like Patil would have no problems. Was she really such a glutton for punishment?

Of course, it was possible that she hadn't really thought much about it at all. She certainly hadn't looked pleased right when the words had left her mouth. Still interesting, though. Did this mean that on some unconscious level even she found Hufflepuff to be a lesser House in spite of the whole 'loyal and true' thing? He bet she did. It would be typical of her sort. Be the champion of the underdog, but secretly respect the ones you're defending against more.

Draco snorted and Nott shot him a warning glance. Granger had started talking, explaining the whole situation to the prefects, using too many bloody words. Draco merely shrugged at Nott and leaned back to stare at a crack in the ceiling, reminding himself that there _were_ benefits to this job.

* * *

Lunchtime in the Great Hall was generally a pretty placid affair, but today Hermione couldn't help but scowl a little at Padma, who was beaming as she was sitting at the Ravenclaw table. She didn't consider herself a petty person and she _had_ gotten over the fact that she had given Padma two of the Houses. After all, Hermione still held the ones with the _real_ conflicts to be solved. It was just… Padma seemed so popular and much busier than Hermione had been at any time since she had gotten Head Girl. People seemed to flock to her with inquiries and the first weekly report that she had given Hermione had been filled with students coming to her with minor problems that Padma had, lamentably, already solved flawlessly by herself. 

She had tried consoling herself that Nott – or Malfoy, for that matter – did not seem to be very busy either, but she had snuck a glance at Nott's desk and had, without having to snoop too much, discovered that he, too, had more students coming to him than she had. She'd discovered that even some Gryffindors had gone to him, for goodness' sake!

She was a complete and utter failure.

Hermione poked her lunch a bit. She had always been socially awkward, but, clearly, she was lacking something that even a hard-to-approach Slytherin, like Theodore Nott, had. She was so depressed that she was currently contemplating resigning completely. It was selfish of her to hang on to her position, really, when Padma seemed like she might do a much better job of it.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, having watched his friend for a bit.

Hermione shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. She was aware that she probably looked like she was going to cry and tried to look like she cared less.

"Is someone giving you grief?" Harry pushed on. "Is Malfoy getting to you?" His jaw clenched and his green eyes were sparking fury at the prospect.

Hermione was slightly startled. "No, of course not," she mumbled. Harry almost seemed like he was looking for a fight, which was rather unusual for him.

"Then what? You haven't really been right since you had to choose Deputies." She noticed that his fists were clenched on the table and realized that he was genuinely angry that someone might be bothering her. It touched her. And, it told her just how little he knew of her problems this year.

She supposed she'd better come clean. "Well, look at her," she said, gesturing miserably at Padma.

Harry turned to look, confusion now being the predominant emotion on his face. "Padma?" he asked. "… _She_'s giving you a hard time?" He frowned a bit, not too happy about having to hex a girl, and a girl he liked, at that.

Hermione sighed. "No, she's _good_ at it!" She poked at her food some more.

Harry slowly turned back. "You're miserable… Because the Deputy that_you_ chose… Is doing a good job?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, feeling more dejected than ever.

Harry frowned again, trying to work out how Hermione's mind worked. He would never understand girls, but he made a valiant effort just the same. "If you feel usurped, then find some way to take back the responsibility," he said. "After all, _you_ are the Head Girl."

Hermione swallowed. "There's really no point to that, is there? She's good, I'm not."

Harry looked genuinely baffled. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm no good at being a Head Girl, Harry. The teachers like me but the students don't. Nobody wants my help."

"I'm sure that's not true, Hermione," Harry said in a soothing voice.

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, look at them flocking to me."

"Maybe you just…" Harry stopped, hesitating.

"Maybe I just what?" Hermione asked.

Harry winced and glanced around, probably for backup. Finally, he sighed and said, "Look, Hermione, don't take this the wrong way…"

"Maybe I just what, Harry?" Hermione's voice had risen, just a little bit.

Harry visibly swallowed. "Maybe you just need to… relax a bit. _Allow_ them to come to you. And for God's sake, don't lecture people."

"I don't lecture!" Hermione indignantly said.

"But you do," Harry replied and sighed. "You mean well, but it makes people not want to—where are you going?" Hermione had abruptly stood up.

"I'm going somewhere where I might not accidentally _lecture_ someone," she said, before she stalked off.

* * *

Later that same night, Draco laid back on one of the comfortable sofas in his common room and closed his eyes. His head was pounding worse than it had in ages. He hadn't fully considered that listening to people whine about their petty little problems and squabbles might be part of his job description. Apparently, it was. He cursed Nott for talking him into doing that part. 

"_You're much more sociable than I am,"_ he'd said. _"It only makes sense that you're the one who talks to people."_

Meaning, Draco had just had the dubious pleasure of listening to two hours straight of other people whining. Draco had never been above whining himself, and suddenly he had a new understanding for why his father had usually bought him things to make him stop. Maybe he could do that the next time… Yes, that was he would do. He vowed to buy the next person who was complaining in his ear something, anything, just to make them stop.

"Hey, Draco!" a familiar voice said a little too loudly, making the pounding worse.

Draco groaned but didn't open his eyes. "Go away, Blaise, and leave me to die."

He knew that Blaise would unfortunately _not_ go away and that he was most likely grinning, right now.

"Isn't that interesting… The last time you said that to me you had cleared my entire stash of firewhisky the night before." Draco could feel Blaise sit down in an armchair next to the sofa. Blast it, he really wasn't going anywhere.

"I haven't been drinking," Draco said, rapidly growing annoyed with his talkative friend. "I don't drink on school nights."

"I know you don't. So, what brought on your delightful disposition?"

"Whining…" Draco mumbled. "So much whining…"

"Well, then. Maybe you should stop?" Blaise suggested and grinned widely as Draco finally cracked an eye open to glare at him.

"Not _my_ whining, you twat," he growled. "Other people. I swear, this wasn't in the job description."

"I'm pretty sure it was," Blaise contradicted him. "You were just too thrilled to gain access to the girls' dormitories to care."

At that, Draco couldn't help a grin. "Oh, yeah. There was that."

"Anything interesting in there?" Blaise asked.

Draco didn't actually know. He'd been much too busy with the less fun sides of this job. He shrugged.

"What?" Blaise asked, sounding amused. "You haven't snuck up to see Pansy yet?"

At the reminder of Pansy, Draco groaned again and his head throbbed excruciatingly.

"Trouble in Paradise?" Blaise asked.

"There is no Paradise," Draco gritted out, barely able to hear his own voice through the blood pounding in his ears. "Can we save this little heart to heart for later?"

"Hmm…" Blaise pretended to think about it. "No. No, I don't think so."

"Why must you bloody torture me?" Draco groaned.

"Because it's fun. Buck up, at least you won't have to listen to anyone else while I have you."

Draco cracked an eye open again, just long enough to notice some fifth years who looked suspiciously like they might choose to approach him. Oh, God, no. "Fine," he forced out. "We broke up. Or rather, I broke up." It wasn't in his nature to allow anyone to think he might have been dumped.

"Why?" Blaise asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "I thought you were getting along fine."

"We were," Draco mumbled. "When we were casual. Then she wanted to be exclusive, which was fine by me, but she got so… _clingy_. Couldn't turn around without her being there. So, I told her we weren't exclusive anymore." Pansy hadn't liked that one bit. Just thinking about the scene she had caused was enough to double his headache, so he opted not to do so.

"I'll be…" Blaise mumbled. "And this wasn't important enough to tell me?"

Draco shrugged. He really hadn't thought about it.

"You're one to talk, though," he said.

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, instantly alarmed.

Draco allowed a slow smirk to form on his face. "She did talk to me, you know. Pansy. We weren't just lip-locked. Tracey Davis? Half-blood, isn't she? I hear you two were quite friendly over the summer." He paused, waiting for Blaise to respond, but he didn't, so he continued. "Tracey apparently told Pansy all about it. Pansy didn't believe her, though, until she showed proof…"

"The Devil she did!" Blaise growled.

"Oh, yes. I forgot what it was, though. I didn't see it. You'll have to ask Pansy or Tracey. So, does this mean that we'll be attending your upcoming nuptials?"

"I'm not with that bitch," Blaise snarled. "Nor was I ever! She's lying!" Draco heard the rustling as he shot out of his chair.

He knew Tracey wasn't lying, but he also knew that Blaise could no more admit to having feelings for a half-blood than he could himself, if he did. They were _pure_bloods and they were expected to keep their lines pure. If Blaise's mother were to find out about Blaise's fling, he might find himself in an arranged marriage, years before his time, to prevent any additional insurgence. And that was the _good_ scenario. Draco wasn't going to tell anyone about this, as he was hardly concerned that Blaise would marry any current girlfriend, but he couldn't stop others from talking, either. He just hoped Blaise took the hint to be more careful with any relationships that he wasn't having.

As Blaise mumbled some excuse and strode off, Draco sighed with relief. At last, his troubled head would have some peace.

This peace lasted exactly 30 seconds and then a second year timidly approached him about rescheduling a detention with McGonagall, who, apparently, had scared the living daylights out of the boy. Draco considered giving him something to be scared about, but decided against it as he really wanted to keep this position.

He'd be damned if he remembered why, though.


	4. Chapter 4

**Go on, read it. You know you wanna... grin**

**Thank you _kazfeist_ for being so quick to look over my wayward commas. :)**

* * *

Having finally calmed down sometime after dinner, Hermione decided against abdicating her position. Of course, Padma would do well. She had the _easy_ Houses. The Slytherins looked down on Hermione for being Muggleborn _and_ being Gryffindor, and the Gryffindors… Well, maybe she _had_ been lecturing some just a little, and the downside to most Gryffindors was excessive pride. She would just have to win the Slytherins over and win the Gryffindors back. 

'_Oh, yes, why didn't I think of that before?'_ she thought sarcastically. '_Things will be so easy now!'_

She was sitting at the library, studying. She actually didn't have to study at the library. She didn't really need to do any form of extensive research, and she had both the shared office and her private room in the Gryffindor tower, where she might study if she wished. She just _liked_ sitting in the library. She liked the books and the quiet. She liked that there were other people about without anybody expecting her to be sociable. Well, actually there wasn't anyone else about just now as the library was closed. She just… really liked it here. Moreover, this was one of the few advantages of being a Head Girl that she truly enjoyed – the freedom to come and go wherever she pleased, whenever she pleased.

She stared at the book in front of her for a few minutes without actually seeing anything but her own thoughts. When she realized that she wasn't actually getting any studying done, she groaned and let her head fall down, resting her forehead on the pages. If she kept this up, she would soon be a bad Head Girl _and_ fail her classes.

"I knew there must be a special trick to how you absorbed all that knowledge," someone mumbled.

Hermione's head shot up and her eyes narrowed. Malfoy. What a way to make a perfect day even better!

"What do _you_ want?" she asked.

His eyebrows went up. "Gee, Granger, now I know why you're so popular. These charms of yours really _are_ effective."

She did not need this, not now. "Go bother someone else," she said, returning her gaze to her book.

"I'd love to, I'd really love to," he said, resting his hip on the table. "But Theo asked me to come find you. Sandra had to go to the hospital wing. Nothing serious, but she was supposed to patrol the halls tonight. He asks if you can find a girl to replace her with such short notice."

"Oh." Hermione was embarrassed. He hadn't just sought her out to bother her. He was actually there as Nott's proxy, asking her to do something that was in her job description. "I'll take her place." She noticed he winced slightly. "Who am I going with?"

"Me," he all but groaned. He didn't say anything more, but from the way his jaw was set, Hermione almost admired his restraint in not begging her to find another replacement. Nott must have said something really good to make him behave this well.

"You might have mentioned that sooner," Hermione said, making no effort of her own to hide how put out she was.

"I assumed you knew the schedules by heart by now," he forced out. He couldn't quite hide his glower and Hermione was almost amused.

"Obviously, I did not," she primly replied.

"Obviously. Look, I understand if, ah…" His eyes darted to her books. "If you forgot you had some more studying to do. I'm sure Padma—"

Hermione abruptly stood, surprising him into silence. "I'll be ready as soon as I've returned my bag to my room."

* * *

Walking the halls with Malfoy was decidedly unpleasant. 

It wasn't that he was being rude or derisive, not at all. He seemed to have decided that the best way to get along was to just stay quiet, and she wholeheartedly agreed. She didn't want to have to try and make small talk with him. So, the silence stretched. And then stretched some more. Hermione had done other rounds where she hadn't been able to find anything to talk to people about, but the silence hadn't quite been this pregnant before.

She also didn't like having to walk around with Malfoy alone at night. It just seemed wrong. Dangerous. She made sure that she could easily draw her wand… just in case.

It had always been the duty of the prefects and head students to make sure that the rules were upheld. This included making sure that the students weren't roaming the halls but were safe with their Houses after curfew. Having organized rounds, however, was something new that Dumbledore had suggested at the beginning of this year. It was a measure taken mainly to make everyone feel safer. The professors also monitored the school, but, aside from Dumbledore, there were only thirteen professors (since Binns hardly counted) and having sixteen prefects, two heads, and two deputies visibly help with the vigilance did wonders for the school morale.

The only problem that Hermione saw right now was… Malfoy had _been_ the undesirable element last time. _He_ had let Death Eaters into the school and now he was one of the people making rounds to make sure that nothing was amiss? She didn't trust him. In fact, she was rather glad that she was the one doing these rounds with him tonight, as she was the only one who was alert to the danger he represented. Yes, it was unpleasant to do, but at least she knew what she might expect and she could handle herself.

"I know what you're thinking, Granger," he finally growled as they were turning a corner, half an hour later.

"Do you, now?" she asked.

"Do you honestly think I'd do the same thing twice?"

Hermione considered for a few seconds. "No… Not the same thing. But there are different ways of achieving the same end."

He touched his forehead and pulled a face as if his head hurt. Good. She hoped it did. "Did it even occur to you that I might not be very popular with You-Know-Who for failing his mission?" The words were sounding forced, strained.

"Of course it did," she replied. "All the more reason for you to redeem yourself in his eyes." They were descending a set of stairs now. Hermione longed for them to be done, but, alas, they were supposed to do this for at least a couple of hours, so walking faster wouldn't help any.

"So that's why you still wanted to come," he said, his voice openly resentful now. "Because you see _me_ as the threat."

She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I see you as _a_ threat, not _the_ threat."

His lips were moving, but she didn't hear anything. She cocked her head as he ignored her and seemed to be trying to keep his temper in check. Either that or he was calling her all the names that Nott had probably browbeaten him into not calling her openly. Possibly, he was doing both.

"Talking to yourself now, Malfoy?" she mocked. "It's not a good sign, you know. You're one step away from St. Mungo's."

"Fuck this," he said. "I'm leaving." He turned and began doing just that.

Hermione gaped. "You can't just _leave_, we aren't done yet!"

He turned to face her, walking backwards, just long enough to say, "Oh, we're _done!_" before turning again, and then he was gone.

* * *

"So you see why he has to go!" Hermione concluded the tale, turning to Nott with blazing eyes. Having slept on the matter hadn't cooled her anger one bit. She was furious that Malfoy had just left her in the middle of rounds. Clearly, he wasn't capable of being professional about this. What if something really had decided to attack while she was doing the rounds _alone_? 

Nott was actually frowning. This was the most emotion she had ever seen from him. Good! Perhaps he was beginning to see his lapse of judgment.

"No," he surprised her by saying. "I don't see."

They were in their office with Hermione frantically pacing in front of Nott, who was sitting on the couch, looking slightly weary.

"What do you mean? I just _told_ you that—"

"I've heard his side of this, too. In fact, I think anyone in Slytherin would have been hard pressed not to hear his side."

Hermione's mouth tightened in a frown. "You believe him over me!?" Of course he did. They were Slytherin. And friends. And boys.

"No," he surprised her again by saying. "I believe the truth is somewhere in the middle."

Hermione frantically went over the incident in her mind. Ok, maybe she had left out a few minor details, but _she_ was still the one in the right. "It doesn't change the fact that he—"

"Tell me, Granger," he interrupted. "Do you want him to be like his father or would you prefer him to be someone less… homicidal?"

Hermione blinked. "Of course I don't want him to be like Lucius Malfoy," she scoffed. "He's nothing but bad news. But I think he's well on the way there and nothing you can say can convince me otherwise."

"I see," Nott said. "Well, I suppose that's it, then. You and your friends are certainly doing nothing to help matters, so I suspect you might end up being right. Congratulations."

"So now it's _MY_ fault how he turns out?" Hermione shrieked, amazed with the injustice of it all.

"He wants this position. He wants to prove himself. He wants it enough that he went to find you when I asked him to and even accepted that you signed yourself up to do rounds with him. This may come as a shock to you, Granger, but he doesn't like you very much. In spite of this, he actually tried to play nice and you weren't even somewhat decent, were you?"

Hermione flushed. Ok, maybe she hadn't been very pleasant. "He wasn't nice," she muttered.

"I've already told you to give him a break. I have to say I'm disappointed in you. I thought you had a better sense of fair play than this."

Was she being scolded by a Slytherin about her lacking sense of fair play? Next thing she knew it would be raining toads and the world would turn on its axis.

"Why did you even go with him? You had every opportunity to choose someone else. Did you really think he'd kill them?"

_He mentioned Padma and I was petty enough to not want her to get the chance to do something else better than I. _Oh, crap. She really was bad at this job.

"Of course I didn't," she said. Then she sighed and sank down in a chair, all the fight gone from her. "I'm sorry that I didn't do better, ok?"

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," Nott said.

Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "You _can't_ mean that – he walked out on me in the middle of our rounds!"

Nott winced slightly. "You should be glad that he did. I had to listen to him vent for an hour. If he had stayed, it would not have been pretty."

"Well," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "I won't."

"Fine," Nott said, getting up from the couch. "I'll report this to Dumbledore, then, shall I?"

"You're_ blackmailing_ me?"

At this Nott smirked. "I am still in Slytherin, you know."

* * *

Transfiguration. Another popular class. They were five from Gryffindor, six from Ravenclaw, four from Slytherin, and three from Hufflepuff, putting them at the grand total of eighteen students. Hermione preferred the smaller classes to this. It was easier to hear things and there wasn't quite so much… scoffing, whenever she spoke. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall kept a tight ship. That was, she kept a tight ship when she was present. Right now, she wasn't, so people were just sitting around, talking. 

Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch. The match against Slytherin was "only" four weeks away and that seemed to occupy a lot of their time these days. Hermione couldn't care less and she felt left out. Her eyes veered to Parvati and Lavender, but they were deep in their own conversation, whispering and giggling. She then let her eyes wander to Ravenclaw. Padma was holding court, it seemed. Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Stephen Cornfoot were all avidly listening to something she had to say, while Anthony Goldstein and Mandy Brocklehurst were off to a side, looking as if they were discussing today's homework. At the Hufflepuff grouping, Susan Boots and Justin Finch-Fletchley were softly talking – was Susan blushing? – while the quiet Wayne Hopkins was doodling. Hermione then let her eyes slide over to the Slytherins and cocked an eyebrow. Things seemed a little bit tense over there. Malfoy was the only boy and he was leaning back, his arms crossed over his chest, while he was warily eyeing the girls he was sitting with. Pansy Parkinson was scowling at him, Tracey Davis was staring hard at the table, and Millicent Bulstrode… looked bored. It was almost interesting. Almost, not quite.

Returning her attention to her friends, Hermione was about to demand a change of subject, when Professor McGonagall entered, clapping her hands for attention. "All right, everyone," she announced. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting – Mr. Finch-Fletchley, stop that at once and Miss Patil, no, I mean Miss Padma Patil, do stop talking while I'm trying to teach you – today we will be transfiguring other human beings." There was some mumbling and more than one person looked a little bit queasy as McGonagall told them exactly what – and, more importantly, what _not_ – they should be doing, before instructing them to find a partner.

"I get Hermione!" Ron immediately said. As Harry and Hermione both looked startled, he grinned sheepishly. "Self-preservation, mate," he said to Harry, whose mouth fell open. Hermione couldn't blame him. Out of the two, Harry would have been taking the greater risk. "Please pair up with me, Hermione," Ron persevered.

He looked so pleading that Hermione could hardly say no, in spite of all the urges she had to preserve her own self. She looked longingly in the direction of Wayne Hopkins, whom she would normally have had to pair with.

"Hermione?" Ron repeated, trying to get her attention.

"Oh, all right, Ron," she said with a sigh. "But you'd better not kill me or I'm coming back to haunt you!"

"Nice to know that I'm loved," Harry grumbled and trudged over to Wayne, while Ron grinned with relief.

Hermione snuck another peak at the Slytherins to see how the tense quartet was sorting this one out. Draco had paired with Millicent, who looked more than a little startled, and Pansy was looking down her nose at Tracey. Intriguing.

"So, do you want to go first or should I?" Ron asked.

Hermione almost jumped and she felt her eye twitch nervously at the thought of Ron transfiguring her. "Err… I think I'd better go first," she said. "And Ron… _Watch!_"

* * *

**Up next: Apologizing to a Slytherin. (Because I am a dreadful tease)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here we go. :) I appreciate the feedback. Thank you very much.  
**

* * *

"Malfoy, wait!" 

After class, Hermione had wrapped up as fast as she could in order to catch Draco before he got too far, but still she had to speed out of the class room, dodging a few perplexed classmates, before she could catch up with him. She had the sneaking suspicion that he was deliberately ignoring her.

"Malfoy, I need to talk to you!" she said, as she finally caught up.

He barely shot her a glance. "Can't. I've got class."

"This'll only take a minute."

She looked at him imploringly and after a few seconds, he finally rolled his eyes and motioned to a door. She went in to the currently empty classroom and he followed, not closing the door behind him. There was no reason to. She would say she was sorry, he would accept, and then he would go to class while she cheerily went and strangled Nott.

"What is it, then?" he asked, taking up a stance with his legs slightly apart and his arms crossed over his chest.

"About the other night…" she hesitantly began.

He made a disgusted sound. "This is what you're wasting my time with?" He dismissed her and turned to leave.

"Wait!" she said, the urgency in her voice making him stop and half-turn to give her a puzzled look. "I'm… I'm sorry, ok? I mean, for being… For not trying to be nice. I'm sorry." _But you shouldn't have walked out!_ She had to literally bite her tongue not to add that last part. It would do no good to continue throwing blame around.

He made a derisive sound and turned to leave again.

Hermione gaped. "This is how you accept an apology? That's beyond rude. Even for a Slytherin. Even for _you!_"

He had taken a few steps and was now within reach of the door. At her words, he grabbed it and slammed it shut, before turning with a furious expression on his face. To say that Hermione was bewildered would be an understatement. She was also a little bit apprehensive. She unconsciously checked for her wand.

"You call _that_ an apology?" he growled. "You didn't mean a word of it! Theo asked you to do it. No, knowing you, Theo had to_force_ you to do it." His hands were clenched and he looked as if he was having trouble restraining himself from physically attacking her. "You didn't even bother to try and put yourself in my position long enough to think up an apology I could _believe_ in"

To hell with not throwing blame around. "You _left_ me to finish rounds on my own! What if something evil had been lurking in the dark? You left me to fend for myself!"

"I thought _I_ was the evil lurking in the dark," he scathingly retorted. "So I did you a favor, didn't I? I removed myself from your pristine presence."

"Why the hell am I supposed to be sorry, when you so obviously are _not_?"

"Because I _tried_, Granger. You didn't. You never tried."

"What do you call _this_, then!?" she gestured wildly, indicating the two of them.

"I call it avoiding whatever Theo threatened you with. Well, you can run along now and tell him that you didn't do a very good job of it and that I, of course, didn't believe you meant it."

Hermione made a rude sound. "So you're trying to make me buy that he didn't force you to be nice to me, too?"

Draco glared at her. "He didn't. He only asked me not to make any death threats, which, believe me, is becoming harder every day."

Hermione frowned, as much at his statement as at an itch that was spreading between her shoulder blades. Not again. She thought she'd taken care of this. "Death threats?" she absently asked.

"Yes, you really are extremely killable and WHY are you squirming like that?"

She_had_ been squirming. Her frown deepened with annoyance. "Ron covered me in scales," she mumbled. "McGonagall said they're gone, but I think she missed some on my back and now they're itching…"

Draco blinked and stared at her incredulously, suddenly realizing the absurdity of it all. Before she could look up at him, though, he wrinkled his nose in disdain. "_That_ is gross. A scaly back. Add that to your list of charms." He began to leave again, needing to get away.

"Wait!" Hermione sighed irritably. She really was tired of asking him to wait. From the glance he shot her way, it seemed he was just as tired of being asked. "I really _am_ sorry." She wearily held his gaze while trying to ignore her itch, which was, truth be told, not that easy. Damn Ron and his ineptitude, some days.

Draco hesitated and then he gave one curt nod before he left.

* * *

Draco knew that it was a bad idea to accept Hermione's half-cocked apology. He just knew it. Before he knew it, she'd be back to vilifying him, and he'd have to considerably reconsider his own stance on Unforgiveable Curses. But, he did it for Theo, anyway. And he did it to keep his position. He decided that he deserved a bloody medal for all his efforts. After all, it was more than he should be expected to do to get along with a _Mudblood_.

For some reason that Draco couldn't quite comprehend, Theo seemed quite devoted to getting them to just marginally get along. It wouldn't work, though. It would never work. Draco was Hermione's least favorite person in school and Hermione was Draco's, well, third least favorite person. Her idiot friends ranged first and second respectively. The best Nott could hope for was that they learned not to aim to kill each other on sight.

Scaly back, indeed. Draco had had to make an effort not to laugh at her disgruntled expression as she had made the confession. He didn't know how she would have taken the laugh, but he had been too annoyed to risk that she mistook his derisiveness for genuine good humor. It might have helped the actual matter at hand if she had, but damn it, he had his limits, too! He couldn't be expected to just accept her insincere apologies, could he?

Besides… Wrinkling his nose and calling her gross had been strangely satisfying.

He reached his common room and threw his bag down on a couch before sitting down next to it. He didn't have class. Of course he didn't. He'd lied to her to get rid of her. He was still angry and he had known that he couldn't trust himself not to do or say anything that he might regret – in the sense that she'd get him booted from his position. He was actually fairly proud of how he'd refrained from doing her bodily harm.

"Hey." Blaise arrived, nodded his greeting at Draco, and then plunked down in a chair next to him.

Draco was unable to do anything but scowl in return.

"You look cheery," Blaise observed. "This isn't still about the Mudblood, is it?"

Draco's scowl deepened.

Blaise sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Draco felt a little bit guilty. Blaise had listened to him rant and rave a lot about this, and now he had to endure more of Draco's moodiness. It was all that damn Granger's fault.

"She apologized," he ground out.

Blaise looked confused. "Who did?"

"_Granger!_" Draco hissed.

Blaise took a few seconds to digest this. "Isn't that a _good_ thing?"

Draco shook his head. "Theo made her."

"Does it matter why she did it?" Blaise asked.

"She didn't bloody mean a word of it. It was a mockery. It made me want to—" Draco clamped his mouth shut before he said something he wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't keep his hands from tightening into fists and making a slight wringing motion.

Blaise grinned. "Why do you care, anyway?"

Draco glowered at his friend. "Because Theo is a master manipulator and he keeps dropping hints about how smart it would be to get along with her. I don't see what I could really gain, but I owe him for this position."

"So you accept her apology. Isn't that getting along? Does it really matter if she meant it?"

Draco growled low in his throat and Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"No," Draco finally bit out. "It's not getting along. It's me trying to behave and her saying whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and then just offering a token apology when Theo threatens her with something or other."

"I threatened to report her to Dumbledore," an unmistakable cool voice was saying and Draco looked up to see that Theo had entered unnoticed. "And I take it that Granger was not being very convincing and you didn't accept the apology."

Belatedly Draco remembered that he _had_ accepted the apology. Sort of. Having Theo badger Granger about it wouldn't serve any purpose at this point. "No, I accepted it," he gruffly said.

Blaise's mouth fell open in a display of surprise. "What's all this, then?" he sputtered.

Draco shrugged. "She tried again and I figured that not getting her in trouble with Theo would make me the better person," he said with a pointed glance at Theo.

"Indeed," the other boy said, sitting down. "Interesting, how I seem to have become the one who has to manage the two of you."

"You could stop?" Draco asked hopefully.

"No. You wouldn't stop until you had her in tears or she abandoned her position. Possibly both." Theo gave Draco a hard stare.

Draco almost pouted. "I don't get why you're always defending her," he mumbled. "I didn't think you liked Mudbloods."

"It doesn't matter if I like her," Theo said. "Sometimes you have to set aside your differences to work together. And I, unlike you, try to understand the people around me. Granger may be a bit much—" at this Draco snorted "—but I imagine that being so socially awkward, her books are her refuge. Not to mention that she's best friends with Potter and she probably feels she needs something to set her apart from others in order to justify that position."

Draco snorted again. "Yeah, because that Weasley is so special. What's his talent? Chewing with his mouth closed? No, wait. He didn't even master that."

Blaise sniggered.

Theo gave Draco a withering look. "Weasley is a _boy_. He can connect with Potter on a level that Granger cannot, being a girl. If she had had the romantic interest of Potter, then less might have been enough, but she doesn't, and, to my knowledge, she doesn't have any interest in him, either. Then there's Quidditch, which both boys love, where she dutifully goes to the games but doesn't particularly care about the outcome, and I have it on good authority that she hates to fly and indeed only passed flying by writing an essay about it."

Draco stared at Theo. "You scare me!" he stated. "Why the hell would anybody _know_ all that, let alone care?"

"So," Theo continued, ignoring Draco's questions. "She's opted to be the brains of the operation. The smartest girl in school, one of the best friends of The Boy Who Lived. But I imagine she still feels left out at times and instead of expressing her loneliness, she seeks comfort in her books. This, of course, doesn't help her social skills much."

Draco had a slight gagging feeling. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to _know_ this.

Theo smirked sardonically. "There is much more to her than that, of course. There'd be much more to anyone. Want to hear about it, or are you done pouting?"

Fighting an urge to nod his assent, Draco pursed his lips. He liked Theo, sort of. But he didn't like the way he was openly trying to beat him into submission. "You forgot the part where she has a scaly back. Add that to her virtues," he informed him, smirking slightly himself.

Blaise choked on air and his eyes bulged. "You saw her back?" he gasped.

Draco blanched. This wasn't exactly what he'd thought to achieve. "Of course not! I… She… We had Transfiguration and…"

Blaise was hard pressed to contain his mirth and Draco groaned, his panic disappearing as he realized that he had fallen for one of Blaise's taunts, making himself look like a ninny. Blaise took that as a cue to burst out laughing. Sometimes Draco really regretted having befriended the boy. Things were much simpler when he used to call Crabbe and Goyle his friends. _They_ certainly never outwitted him.

Theo was grinning, too. Draco groaned again. He'd really risen to the bait and shot himself in the foot, making winning this argument virtually impossible. He covered his face with his hands and leaned back, making a valiant effort to ignore his friends. If he knew Blaise, he'd be hearing about this for weeks.

"Well," Theo finally said, clearing his throat slightly. "I didn't find it pertinent. But, since we are discussing it, I suspect that her scaly back would be a fine match to your webbed hands and… feet? And how's the rash that Bulstrode gave you, before she even managed turning you part amphibian?"

Draco removed his hands from his face and stared at Theo. "_How_ do you know this stuff?" He'd thought he'd gotten rid of his amphibian traits before anyone noticed and the rash was on his stomach, so he knew that nobody had seen _that_. McGonagall had told him to visit Madam Pomfrey if it wasn't gone by morning.

Theo smirked. "I have my sources."

"It happened less than an hour ago!"

"They are fast sources."

"You wouldn't happen to be a Legilimens, would you?" Draco asked, scowling.

"That would be rather intrusive of me, wouldn't it?" Theo asked.

That was, of course, no answer at all. Draco scowled some more and Theo smiled politely in return. He would never tell. Blaise was grinning again and Draco decided to throw his punches where they might actually hit something other than air.

"So, Blaise," he said in his silkiest voice. "You've been sneaking in late these past few days. Imagine my surprise when I found out that Tracey has, too…"

This time Blaise was scowling and Draco was grinning.

* * *

**Next: More from Harry and Ron and Draco has a proposition...  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Merry Christmas! I have been pushing this one a bit to get it out tonight, so no blaming my betas if you find stuff. Anything pressing will be fixed later.**

**Love,**

**Kitty **

* * *

Another rotten day in another rotten week. This was becoming pathetic. Hermione slammed her book shut and got up from her chair. The library wasn't empty, but it was far from crowded. Only the occasional bookworm – usually Ravenclaw – was present. It wasn't before midterms that people generally remembered that they ought to get some more studying done and flocked to the library. The notion would have amused Hermione, if she hadn't been in such a bad mood.

Grabbing her bag, she decided to leave for the common room early to catch up a bit with her friends. She did that so rarely these days. It wasn't that she was really all that busy, it was more that she was ashamed that she wasn't all that busy, and so stayed away a bit more than she perhaps should. It was stupid, really. Her friends probably wouldn't even notice if she wasn't as busy as she ought to be, and, instead, she robbed them of her presence, and vice versa, in order to just sit around and be bored. And she _was_ bored. She had probably already studied enough to pass her NEWTs, which of course didn't mean that she couldn't study _more_, but she certainly didn't need to put in this amount of hours all semester.

A few minutes later, she stepped into the Gryffindor common room. She spotted Harry first and then immediately felt discouraged. He certainly didn't look like he felt like talking to her right now. In fact, he didn't look like talking was much of an option, with his face firmly plastered to Ginny's. Hermione was a little bit uncomfortable with their blatant show of… well, she supposed it was affection… not to mention surprised that they were being so obvious. Last she knew, Ron had been playing the part of overprotective brother to perfection. Of course, maybe Ron wasn't around at all.

Except, she realized, he was. He seemed to be ignoring the fact that his best friend was snogging the life out of his sister, which was remarkable, to say the least. He was involved in a game of wizard's chess with Dean Thomas. Wizard's chess _was_ Ron's favorite pastime, and one that Hermione loathed, but was he actually engrossed enough that he hadn't noticed what was going on? Hermione hesitantly went over to him.

"Hey, Hermione," he greeted. "Didn't think you'd be back so soon." He nudged his knight and Hermione almost jumped as it viciously attacked Dean's rook. Dean himself winced.

"Hello, Hermione," Dean mumbled, frowning and scratching his head, trying to figure out how to beat Ron.

"Hey," Hermione replied, ignoring the game. She really had no skill for it and hence she had long since deemed it silly. She took a seat. "So, um, Ron… Did you notice…"

"Yeah, I did," he said. Hermione noticed a frown formed on his face. "I was told in no uncertain terms to stay out of it, so I am. Sort of." He glowered at the couple.

She blinked. "Wow, Ron. That's… That's so mature of you."

His lips tightened. "Yeah? Wait till I tell Mom. Or possibly Fred and George. I haven't decided yet. Maybe I should just let them all at her."

Hermione sighed. She supposed it had been too much to hope that Ron had gotten over this. "Why don't you just let them be? They aren't harming anyone."

Ron flushed a little and she realized that it was from anger rather than embarrassment. "That's my baby sister he's currently defiling. I don't care if she wants him to or not, I can't just allow it."

"Oh, Ron…" It was barely more than a sigh. She guessed she sort of understood his sentiment but Ginny and Harry had been going steady for months now and they weren't doing anything _terribly_ inappropriate.

"I give up!" Dean suddenly exclaimed. "There's no playing with you when you're in this mood. I forfeit the game while some of my pieces are still whole!" He got up and collected his battered pieces.

Ron looked just petulant enough for Hermione to realize that Dean's complaint was legitimate. She supposed that having an enchanted wooden army viciously beat up another enchanted wooden army was better than bloodying your best friend's nose. Still…

"Hey, Harry!" she said, twisting in her chair. "Ginny! Break it up! At this rate, one of you will suffocate soon." She didn't miss the appreciative glance that Ron shot her. Well, she wasn't Head Girl for nothing.

Ginny blushed and Harry grinned sheepishly as they finally came apart. "Hey, Hermione," he said. "Didn't see you there."

"Of course you didn't," she archly replied. "I only entered fifteen minutes ago, and since nothing short of an act of God seemed to be able to pry you apart…"

"Hey, that's not fair," Ginny interjected. "We stopped as soon as you told us to."

"Which is more than they'll do for me," Ron grumbled, gaining a frigid stare from his sister.

Hermione noticed that Harry was glancing at Ron with a vaguely uncomfortable expression on his face. Ginny seemed to notice too, because she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. His discomfort seemed to deepen as he ran a hand through his hair and this time directed a sheepish grin at Ginny.

Had this really been going on right under her nose? Apparently Ginny was less than sensitive to Ron's and Harry's plight. Not that she was unaware of the strain, she seemed very much aware, but she seemed to be of the firm opinion that Ron should get over it and was demonstrating it in a way that only a sister would. In her efforts to express to Ron just how little she cared about his opinion, she was effectively driving him and Harry apart. That wouldn't do at all. In the end she'd only mess up her own relationship with Harry with her petty sibling rivalry. Hermione severely doubted she'd listen to her, though. Although Ginny was generally an intelligent and sensible girl, she seemed to have a blind spot when it came to bothering the youngest of her brothers.

"Maybe you should tone it down a bit," Hermione suggested.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Who are you to ask us to—"

"I'm not asking," Hermione interrupted. "I'm _telling._" _And I'm the Head Girl and this kind of behavior is against the school rules._ She didn't have to add this. Ginny knew the rules as well as anyone.

Ginny's eyes narrowed some more and then abruptly she grabbed Harry's hand. "Come on, then. Let's go somewhere where people aren't against kisses just because they aren't getting any themselves."

Hermione flushed. That had been a low blow. She was feeling hurt and angry. Yet, out of her respect for the Weasley family and her desire to keep her friendship with Harry, she held her tongue. Ron had no such scruples. "Wait a minute—" he began, but Harry beat him to it.

"I think I'd like to stay," he quietly said, disentangling his hand from Ginny's.

Ginny coolly assessed her boyfriend, but soon arrived at the conclusion that he wasn't siding with her this time. She turned and walked to the entrance with a dismissive wave of her hand and a "You know where to find me." Harry gazed after her with a wistful and slightly lost expression on his face.

"You can go after her if you want," Hermione softly said. "We won't hold it against you." She shot a glance at Ron that said "YOU won't hold it against him" but Ron deliberately ignored her and just stared down at the chessboard.

"No, it's okay," Harry said with a sigh as he lowered himself into the chair that Dean had vacated earlier. "She's usually great, but sometimes, when it comes to Ron, she can be a little single-minded. I know I shouldn't let her do this, but…" He shrugged. Hermione understood. It was probably hard for him to be in the middle of a dispute between the two Weasley siblings that he cared about the most, and Ginny could be formidable when she chose.

"It's not your fault, mate," Ron said, surprising both Hermione and Harry. "What?" Ron continued. "Don't look at me like that. It_isn't_ his fault, even though I'd prefer it if you'd snog her less."

Harry's lip quirked into a lopsided grin and his green eyes had a wicked gleam. "I can make an effort to snog her less… in front of _you_."

Ron scowled at Harry but mumbled "That'll do." And then the two of them agreed to play a game of wizard's chess.

Hermione shook her head, not quite understanding her boys.

* * *

By the next day, Hermione was back to her little scheme. She had enjoyed spending the extra time with Ron and Harry, but at the same time, she had had a nagging feeling that she was skulking from what she ought to be doing. It was perhaps silly, but she actually felt better, sitting at the library reading. She felt more available this way. Everyone knew where she was at, and if there were any problems, they knew to come and get her.

But there were never any problems. It was rare that anybody came.

She stayed until ten o'clock and then she collected her things and left, hugging the books that wouldn't fit in her bag to her chest. If she hurried, she might still have a couple of hours with her friends. She sped up and turned a corner at a half-run, just to bump into someone coming from the other direction, and drop all the books she was holding. She would have ended up on her bum on the floor herself, if an arm hadn't shot out to steady her.

"Easy, Granger, where's the fire?" Malfoy mumbled in a slightly annoyed voice.

Hermione closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds, just willing him to go away. What was he doing here at this hour, anyway? She crouched down to pick up her books. "Did you need something?" she asked.

"Need?" he asked, looking a little confused.

She looked up at him. "You're alone on fifth floor after curfew. It isn't too far-fetched to think that maybe Nott sent you to find me at the library."

He grunted. "He didn't."

"Oh, ok," she said, frowning a bit as she tried to stack her books in a way so she wouldn't drop them again as soon as she straightened. The fact that her bag was weighing heavily on her one side wasn't making the task easier.

She noticed that Malfoy hadn't budged and looked up at him again. He had a pained and annoyed expression on his face. "I'm being punished," he groaned.

Hermione blinked, fending off amusement at his statement. "How?" she asked. "And what for?"

He scowled. "Theo told me to do rounds for three hours each night _by myself_ for a week, independent of the schedule, for leaving you alone."

Hermione was hard pressed to keep a burble of laughter back. "What?" she choked, her eyes tearing up at the effort she was exercising in keeping it back. Watching Malfoy getting his just desserts was just too enjoyable by half.

He grimaced. "I thought you might enjoy knowing that."

"Then why did you tell me?" she quipped.

He pursed his lips. "Perhaps the fact that you don't seem very threatening while squatting on the floor?"

"Oh!" Hermione straightened so quickly that she dropped one of her books again. A pretty hefty volume on wizarding history. She really should have gone twice.

She shifted her books a bit, so that she might be able to pick it up without dropping anything else, but before she could bend down again, Malfoy rolled his eyes and bent to scoop up the book. He didn't give it to her straight away, though. Instead he took a look at the title and frowned.

"It's a book," Hermione supplied helpfully after a minute. "It has little black things in it, called letters, that form words that in turn form—oof!" He had thrust the book at her so hard that she momentarily lost her breath. Fortunately, she managed not to drop anything this time.

"Stop patronizing me, Granger," he growled.

"Well, you _did_ look rather perplexed," she defended herself, wishing she had a third hand, so she could rub the sore spot where the book had hit.

"I was just surprised that this book would be part of the History of Magic NEWT syllabus, was all."

"I don't think it is. I don't take History of Magic." Too late Hermione realized that she'd just laid herself wide open to at least a hundred insults about her not having a life. She steeled herself.

His facial expression didn't change. "I should have known. If I were you I'd get third edition instead. This one, same as first edition, is filled with minor factual errors that the first editor didn't catch."

Hermione stared. Since when did Draco Malfoy know enough to teach _her_anything about books? He shifted and she realized that he was walking away.

She shook her head. "Uh, thanks, but I think that if they have it here at Hogwarts…"

He stiffened. "You may think you know a great deal about everything from your books, Granger," he coldly interrupted. "But when it comes to the wizarding history, my family _lived_ it. It's in every nook and cranny of the manor. We have an entire library just filled with journals written by my ancestors. You may have read some things over the past six years and think that makes you qualify as knowledgeable, but I knew everything you will find in that book before I could even walk!"

Hermione found that very hard to believe. "If you say so, Malfoy."

That fired his temper. "_Don't_ patronize me! This is one area where you will never beat me!"

Hermione shot him a cool glance. "Want to bet?"

A very unpleasant smile spread across his features. "I'll be your slave for a month if you can best me in this."

That took her aback. "What?"

He studied his fingernails. "Of course, it goes both ways."

"You're insane," she all but whispered.

"Quite possibly. So, are you taking the bet?"

Hermione shook her head.

He snorted. "Too much of a coward, are you? I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave."

"We are!" she snarled. "Just not stupid! You'd never hold your end of your bargain."

He looked at her for a few moments, mulling this over. "Meet me at the Head Students' office at this time in three days," he said and then walked away.

Was he really assuming that she'd just do what he told her to? "I didn't say I would!" she yelled after him.

"You will!" was the only reply she got.

* * *

**Next: Pansy Parkinson ambushes Draco, who will also be getting a package from home, and Hermione annoys Nott.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy Birthday to me! Yes, the 25th of December is (was, it's now 2.30 am on December 26th here) my birthday!!**

**And my boyfriend gave me a bracelet.**

**Ha ha, Maz... But he does swear that it was unintentional. Hmmm.**

**This A/N might make more sense once you know more about the Bracelet ;)**

* * *

Draco knew that he would probably live to regret this, especially if Theo found out, but it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. After all, Draco was nothing if not an opportunist. And in all fairness, if he did manage to persuade Hermione to do a bet, she definitely had it coming. And he'd try his damnedest to persuade her. He really, really wanted to best her and then be able to rub her nose in it. Preferably as publically as possible. 

He hadn't started out with such a malicious intent. He had actually waited with going up to fifth floor, until he thought she was gone, in an effort to keep the peace. When she had still for some reason been there and had, in fact, almost mowed him down, he had been reasonably polite and even told her why he was there before she could jump to any wild conclusions. He had even endured her amusement at his expense with, in his own opinion, relatively good humor.

She just never seemed to stop patronizing him in word and deed, and it rankled him. He had been as pleasant as he possibly could be expected to be and still she spoke to him as if he was two years old. He wanted to hurt her and now he had his means – she was much too conceited to even contemplate that he might know more about a bookish subject than she did, even after he told her why.

She would accept the challenge and he would make her pay.

He was whistling quite merrily by the time he had finally finished his solitary rounds and was entering the Slytherin common room.

"Well, if it isn't our very own Draco Malfoy… and looking disgustingly smug, too!"

Draco almost jumped. "Pansy!" he exclaimed. "Um, why are you here? I mean…" He shook his head and pinched his nose while grimacing. Questioning why she was in her own common room, smooth move. "Why are you up so late?"

"Waiting for you, actually," she replied, laying down her magazine and rising from her seat.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. It was awkward being around her. They had had a thing since third year, and even though he'd been rather flippant when telling Blaise about it, it was… strange not to have that anymore. They had had fun. Genuine, laugh-till-your-belly-aches-your-eyes-tear-up-and-you-begin-to-suffocate fun. He'd just felt smothered since they had taken it a step further than casual and, apparently, in Pansy's eyes, there was no taking just one step back, so he'd had to break it off with her, and she'd been furious with him ever since.

She took a few steps towards him and he found himself admiring her looks. He'd heard Potter refer to her as pug-faced once, making Granger snigger, but that just wasn't true. Pansy was everything that was feminine. She was petite and slender with a heart-shaped face, clear blue eyes and the cutest button nose he ever saw. She had nearly unmanned him the only time he had referred to her nose as such, of course, but that was how he saw it. The silky blonde locks framing her face he had once referred to as spun gold on a summer's day – this analogy had _not_ nearly gotten him unmanned but had rather eventually sent him into a cold shower for a solid hour. He remembered that day vividly.

"What is it you want, Pansy?" he asked, vaguely surprised at the hoarseness of his voice.

"Well, first off…" she said and punched him in the chest.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, more in surprise than anything else. "What was that for?"

"You're such a prick, Malfoy!" she stated. "You weren't supposed to just leave me hanging for weeks!"

Draco was genuinely confused. "Hanging? Did I forget something?"

"I'll say you did," she said as she sauntered back to the couch and motioned for him to sit down next to her. He eyed her a little warily and rubbed his chest before doing as she asked. "You forgot," she continued after he was seated, "the part where you come crawling back to me, begging for my forgiveness."

Draco's mouth fell open. He shot her a quick glance to see if she was joking, but she looked perfectly serene. He cleared his throat. Then he cleared his throat again.

"You should have Madam Pomfrey look into that cough of yours," Pansy conversationally said.

"Well, what do you want me to say, Pans?" he finally said. "I meant what I said, then. And you obviously weren't interested in giving me the space I—Ow!" She had hit him on the head with her magazine. Quite forcefully, too.

He glared at her, and she rolled her eyes and straightened the magazine out again. "Stupid boy," she grumbled. "What you basically said was that I should be so lucky as you allowing me to come near you maybe once or twice a week, when you feel lonely."

Draco felt himself blush a little. "That's not what I said. I never said that!"

Pansy ignored him. "Now, I can admit that I might have gotten a little too enthusiastic, but you could hardly have seemed less enthusiastic and I know why." She looked him straight in the eye. "You've been getting rid of everything that has to do with your old life."

She paused and he could do nothing but stare at her in shock.

"I thought you'd realize your mistake but you haven't yet, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she continued. "Do I just placidly wait this out or do I move on?" Draco still didn't respond and Pansy sighed. "So, I know it hasn't really been that long, but I suppose what I want to know is… Do you really want it to be over?"

Draco was completely bowled over. He opened his mouth to say something, but not a sound came. Her gaze was unwavering and her eyes calm, but deep in their depths he could see her vulnerability. He had no desire to hurt her. Before he had befriended Blaise, _she_ had been the closest thing that he had to a real friend.

"I never wanted it to be over," he finally said. "I just wanted it to be… _less_."

She slowly nodded. "I might be willing to compromise a bit if you are."

He smiled at her. "Of course."

"Good," she said with a nod and stood.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, feeling puzzled. She seemed to have that effect on him tonight.

"To bed," she replied. "You'll be having plenty of space tonight." She left for her dormitory.

Draco could do nothing but shake his head. What had just happened?

* * *

Two days later, Draco received a package from home. That didn't mean from the new place, where his mother had been forced to go into hiding. This would have been much too dangerous. Any communication that he wished to have with her this year had to go through Dumbledore, or possibly Snape, even though Draco didn't actually trust Snape as far as he could throw him, these days. No, this package came from his _real _home, the Manor.

He carefully put it aside and resumed breaking his fast. He knew what was in it. He had requested it himself. He had counted on the fact that the house elves would still be tied to the Malfoy family, and that even if his father was still in as deep with He Who Must Not Be Named as Draco suspected he was, he wouldn't have thought to prevent them from giving Draco anything he'd openly ask for.

Of course, his father might soon find out exactly _what_ Draco had asked them for and where it had been sent, but Draco didn't see what he could do with that information. Everybody knew Draco was back at Hogwarts, and making problems for him would only mean revealing himself.

Still, the things in that package, while seemingly innocent to the untrained eye, were very much dangerous and illegal. He'd been a little nervous about the package being intercepted by some security measure, as having it would have been almost impossible for him to explain, but then again… this wasn't obvious magic. The objects weren't cursed and if you touched them or used incantations on them absolutely nothing would happen.

His ancestors had known better than that.

There was only one way to make them work. You didn't have to cast a spell or activate them under a full moon or anything like that. You just had to… use them. In fact, it was so simple that Draco knew that the Ministry had actually had hold of them before without realizing what they had.

Having finished his breakfast, he picked up his package and walked back to his dormitory. It was time to get ready for class.

* * *

"What's that?"

Draco swirled around, nearly dropping the thing he'd been studying near the fire. Classes were out, and curiosity had gotten the better of him. He'd never studied these things up close. "Sheesh, Blaise," he said with a scowl. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Feeling guilty about something, are we?" Blaise said with a grin as he plopped down in a nearby chair. "Is that jewelry? Buying your way into Pansy's good graces or… other things, perhaps?"

Draco's scowl deepened. "Watch it! Don't talk about my girl like that."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "So, it's true then. You are back together."

Draco nodded in the affirmative and turned back to continue his studying.

"Glad to know that you tell me about the important events in your life."

Draco shrugged.

"And now you are buying her jewelry?" Blaise persisted.

Draco shook his head. "This is not for Pansy."

There was a silence. "I see," Blaise finally said. "And can you explain to me why you just got back with Pansy, who obviously cares a lot about you, only to turn around and cheat on her?"

"_What?_" Draco faced his friend. "I am _not_ cheating on her! Nor have I ever been!"

"Well, there was that time with the—"

"That was different! _She_ had told _me_ she wanted to see other people for the summer. So I did what she told me to and saw other people!"

"Fine, fine," Blaise said with a sigh. "But how do you explain that obviously very expensive bracelet, you are currently holding, which I'm guessing is neither for your girlfriend _nor_ your mother."

Draco weighed the bracelet in his hand. Even if it wasn't magical it_would_ be really expensive. It was solid platinum set with diamonds and it was hand carved in intricate scrollwork. Almost too pretty for its purpose. He smirked.

"This," he replied, "is payback."

* * *

Today hadn't really been bad. Today had, in fact, been rather good. The semester was now, apparently, far enough along that people chose to be half-asleep during class rather than pick on those who had actually done their homework. It did remarkable things for Hermione's mood and, incidentally, she had found that when she talked to someone, they were actually nice. Well, except for the Slytherins. Or, rather, except for two Slytherins in particular – Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. What a match made in… well… Hell.

"Hermione!" a familiar voice called out and Hermione turned to find Ron running to catch up with her.

"Hey, Ron," she said, a little puzzled. It was mid-afternoon and he could usually be found at the Quidditch field or in their common room at this time. Not running after her on the second floor, where he had no business. "What's up?"

His gaze flickered. "Nothing. I can't just seek out one of my best friends because I want to be with her?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but decided not to contest it. "I guess…"

He winced slightly. "I can't be in our common room," he confessed, "and I don't know where else to go. You don't mind if I tag along, do you? I won't be any trouble, I swear."

"Of course not," Hermione said. "I'm just doing paperwork today, though…" She did want to spend time with him, but she knew he wouldn't care to sit around and watch that.

He pulled a face. "Figures." When she looked at him quizzically, he hastened to add, "I don't mind, though. Not at all. Anything to spend more time with you."

"Ginny being a bother?" she drily asked.

He sighed. "You have no idea."

They went up to the heads' office on fifth floor. She had a few things she needed to do, and they would have privacy there… Or so she thought. She began to enter the office and then stopped dead in her tracks, making Ron accidentally bump into her and nearly knocking her down. It was only due to an uncharacteristic show of reflex from his side, as he grabbed her around the waist, that she remained standing.

"Nott," she mumbled. "I… Well, I didn't think you'd be here."

The Head Boy looked up from where he was seated at his desk and pinned the two of them with a penetrating stare. "Likewise, Granger. I wasn't of the impression that you used the office very much on Thursdays."

Hermione had to make a conscious effort not to glance at Ron. She had claimed to go here many Thursdays, trying to seem more busy than she was. Ron didn't comment, though. She went further inside. Ron's arm slipped away and he followed, shooting curious glances at Nott, but staying quiet.

"What's this, then?" Nott asked, his whole demeanor had somehow changed to sardonic without him seemingly moving a muscle or changing the tone of his voice. "I thought this wasn't the place for social calls."

Hermione flushed guiltily. When she had said that, it had only been because_Malfoy_ had been Nott's "social call."

Ron gently touched her shoulder and she turned to face him. "It's ok," he mumbled. "He doesn't want me here and I suppose it's his office too. Can you try and make it back early?"

She nodded. "Of course." His request made her feel even more guilty. He probably felt alone too, now that Harry was spending more time with Ginny, and there really was no reason to stay away from her common room and her friends other than her own vanity. "Listen, Ron, I'm very sorry about—"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted with a small smile. "You're the Head Girl and we're proud of you. Just don't forget about us in the process. Don't forget about _me_. And don't let this Slytherin bastard get to you, either." He hadn't bothered to lower his voice, but Nott showed no reaction. Ron then tilted her chin to peck her cheek and left.

_Who are you and what have you done with Ron?_

"Now that I have you here," Nott said, not giving any indication that he'd noticed anything at all, even though Hermione knew very well that he had noticed _all_ of it, "Draco requested a couple of changes to your new schedule, and I thought you might like to go over it."

"Of course he did," she muttered.

Nott barely glanced up. "It's Quidditch season and you've scheduled him and another player to do rounds on a few days when they have practice. I hardly think he's being unfair."

Hermione didn't reply but instead went to her desk to work at the new schedule.


	8. Chapter 8

**This will be the last chapter from me before 2008, then... Wow... Neat!**

**Thank you to everyone who has been kind enough to support my works these past 4 months. It means a lot to me. Best wishes for the new year to you all!**

**Love,**

**Kitty**

* * *

When Draco the next night pushed the door to the heads' office open, he wasn't entirely sure what he would find. He wasn't early, of course. He wouldn't be caught dead early to a meeting with Granger. He wasn't exactly late either, though. If she was going to be there, she should be there _now_. And she'd better be, because he was counting on her curiosity and her overconfidence to help him with this newest scheme of his. 

He smirked when he noticed a bushy head bent over a desk. Good. He closed the door a bit more forcefully than he perhaps had to in order to signal his appearance. She ignored him. He snorted.

"I knew you'd be here," he said.

"State your business and leave," she coolly replied without turning around.

His eyebrows went up. "I'm not going to speak to that nest you call hair," he stated and sauntered over to the conference table and took a seat, setting down the box he was holding just hard enough that she would know there was something. Then he waited.

He didn't have to wait long. She closed the book she had been perusing with an exasperated sound and got up, stalking over to glare at him from the other side of the table. It was almost amusing how easy she was to manage sometimes.

"Why are you wasting my time, Malfoy?" she asked.

He smirked. "Because I want to beat you," he answered truthfully. "I want you to enter into a contest with me on the topic of wizarding history, winner takes all. For a month, anyway." He doubted he could endure her presence any longer than that, even if she _were_ bound to serve him.

Hermione made a very unladylike snort. "I told you no. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

"Who needs trust?" Draco all but purred, positively glowing with self-satisfaction. Hermione had never been afraid of him for a second in her life, but something about the way he looked right now made her eye the exit. "Who needs trust," he repeated, "when you've got magic?" His smirk widened and she just _knew_ that he was up to something she wasn't going to like.

"I'm not taking an Unbreakable Vow," she said. "I'm pretty sure it's against school rules and even if it isn't, it's against _my_ rules and… Not with _you!_" She wrinkled her nose.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to take an Unbreakable Vow," he scoffed. "There's other ways, _better_ ways. Older ways." He waited again.

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes when he didn't give any indication that he was going to go on. "What is it, then?" she impatiently asked.

He suppressed a grin. Her curiosity was obvious in the way that she eyed him and the box, but he could also see from the way she was glancing at the door that she was really close to just walking out. He couldn't allow that. It would rob him of the most fun that he was likely to have all year.

"You have to promise me something before I tell you," he said.

Her look instantly turned wary. "What?" she asked.

"You can't tell anybody about… what you see or experience here tonight."

"Why not?" She was unconsciously edging further away from him.

"Why do you bloody think, Granger?" he snapped. "I have something that I'm not supposed to have, and I can't have you ratting me out, if you don't like what you see."

She crossed her arms and finally stilled. "And who's to say I'd keep my word?"

"Oh, you'd keep it," he said. "If not for honor and… whatever lame reasons your type thinks up, then for the very real threat that is me."

She snorted.

He raised an eyebrow. "I still have connections," he said. "I can make life very uncomfortable for you long after Hogwarts without even once coming close to breaking the law. And if you go against your word, I will make it my life's mission to make your life miserable."

She rolled her eyes once again. "Oh, for the love of God, Malfoy – you couldn't just say please?"

He leaned forward and stared at her intently. "Please," he said in a voice that was anything but pleading.

"You are undoubtedly the most spoiled and malicious brat I have ever had the misfortune to meet," she informed him.

"Good for you! But you're boring me with your prattle. Yes or no, Granger?"

"Fine," she said on a sigh, against her own better judgment. "I promise I won't tell anyone about…" She gestured at the box. "That, I presume."

"Neither directly nor indirectly."

"Malfoy…"

"Your word."

"Yes, you have it! Now get on with it!"

He got up, grabbed the box and casually went around the table to her. Her eyes didn't leave him and her gaze was guarded. He wondered how fast she would grab her wand if he made a sudden movement, but messing around like that would probably only send her running out the door in a huff. He opened the box.

"Give me your wrist," he said, slipping on the ring that was in the box. It was a perfect match to the bracelet in its design of hand-carved scrollwork and tiny perfectly embedded diamonds. He'd have to figure a way around that later or there might be questions.

Instead of complying, she put her hands behind her back and took a step backwards.

He rubbed his forehead wearily. "I have to show you like this, ok?"

She shook her head. "You must be out of your mind if you think that I—"

"What do you think I'm going to do?" he hotly interrupted. "Maim you right here in this office? Don't you think I'd be anyone's first suspect?"

When she didn't immediately respond he mumbled something very unflattering and grabbed her wrist and closed the bracelet on it before she could object. She jerked away from him and desperately began twisting the bracelet to find the clasp. It was gone. It had smoothly closed, leaving not the least dent anywhere, and even though it had seemed bigger before, it was now small enough that there was no way she could slip it off.

"How do I get this thing off?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky. She was now doubting what she had agreed to. Trusting a Malfoy, indeed._Smart move, Hermione. Of course Malfoy was up to something; he always is. Gee, could you be any more naïve? Maybe, tomorrow, you can go have a nice little chat with Voldemort and try to convince him to be less radical in his beliefs over tea and biscuits!_

"You don't," he replied. "Only the one with the ring can remove it. So, unless you want to kill me to regain your freedom, I suggest you hear me out." It was, he thought, quite fortunate that looks could_not_ kill, if one were to judge from the look she sent him.

She sneered. "I think I can guess what this is."

"Clever girl," he mumbled. "But I thought you weren't going to take my word for it?"

Now he actually had the gall to rebuke her for not believing that he would go through with it if he lost?

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"A demonstration," he said. "Nothing more, I _promise_." He deliberately exaggerated the last word.

She made a derisive sound. "And, of course, it's not _you_ wearing it."

"You'd think I was faking it," he growled. "Now, shut up!"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, scowling at him. Well, that hadn't been part of the demonstration, but Draco personally thought it was a pleasant side effect.

"Right," he said. Now to pick something that would embarrass her. Just a little. "How many boys have you dated this past year?" he asked, making another mental note as to just how much he deserved a medal. As far as questions went, this was kind of lame, considering that he could ask her anything and she'd be compelled to answer, and he actually already knew the answer to this one. All of Hogwarts did.

She opened her mouth, fully intending to tell him to go to Hell, and heard her own voice say, "None." She flushed and her eyes widened in outrage and she began clawing at the abominable piece of ornament again.

"Oh, come on," he said, hard pressed to not laugh out loud at her reaction. "I had to ask you something you wouldn't normally reply to and it's not like it was something I didn't already know!"

She didn't reply but just shot him a furious look. Now he did laugh. Who would have thought she'd be so sensitive about this?

"Is your demonstration done?" she bit off, presenting him with her wrist, having little actual hope that he'd free her. To her great surprise, however, he did remove it before removing his ring as well.

"Will you take the bet, then?" he asked. "Or are you afraid you'll lose?" His amusement was still apparent.

"Turnabout is fair play," she said, crossing her arms.

_But I don't like to play fair,_ he almost said.No, that was probably not the right thing to say right now. He wanted her to think he was the soul of fairness or, well, the closest thing he was able to convince her tonight.

"Why?" he asked. "You _know_ it's working now."

"I know it's working on me, yes," she said. "But I don't know if it's only working on women or Muggleborns or, heck, anyone who isn't a Malfoy. I want to know if it'll work on _you_."

Damn. He hadn't even considered that. For all he knew it _could_ work on only witches… which added a whole new level of possible fun – in the unlikely event that he lost.

She reached out her hand, palm up. "If you _really_ want me to believe you and have some sort of contest with you, you will do this."

"Then you agree?" he asked, unwilling to do this for anything less.

"_If_ it works, yes."

Hesitantly, he gave her the ring and snapped the bracelet shut around his own wrist, watching the clasp disappear as she put the ring on. He wasn't stupid; he was aware just how much power he was giving her. Hopefully, she wasn't. Getting answers to one's questions was just the tip of the iceberg... but he didn't plan on letting her find that out just yet. Especially considering how dangerous questions could be in themselves.

"How many girls have you dated this past year?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Two." He held out his wrist for her to remove the bracelet again.

She smirked. "That was just idle conversation; I'd hardly need the bracelet to get that reply."

He scowled at her but didn't reply. She couldn't know that if given the choice to lie, he would have answered 'one'.

"Has your father tried to contact you?"

Draco's eyes bulged. "Granger, that's crossing the line!"

"Answer!" she demanded.

"No," he growled. _I'll get you back for this, you little Mudblood bitch!_

"Why didn't you kill Dumbledore?"

He clenched his teeth.

"Come now, Malfoy," she calmly said. "I have to ask something you wouldn't normally reply to."

She actually dared to mock him on top of everything?

"He was old and defenseless in that moment, and he's always been kind to me in spite of my family's reputation, and I swear to you, if you do not remove this bracelet right _now,_ I will make you regret it in so many ways that your great grandchildren will feel the effects!" he snarled in one breath.

He should have known she couldn't be trusted even this far. He should have known she'd turn it around and abuse and interrogate him. All of her morals and rules about how to treat others had never applied to _him,_ and she repeatedly did to him exactly what she accused him of doing to others. He would win this thing and he'd show her exactly how nasty he could be. He would give her everything she deserved and then some. She _would_ pay for being such a self-righteous bitch.

Hermione wasn't surprised to see that Draco had murder in his eyes. She almost thought she could feel his fury. He clearly hadn't wanted to tell her the last bit and it was this that finally convinced her that the bracelet was, in fact, working. Also, the new knowledge helped set her somewhat at ease. Still, she got her wand out, just in case, before she touched the bracelet, snapping it open.

The second he was free, however, he twisted the wand from her with one hand before throwing it to the floor and then he grabbed her wrists, while the other tangled in her hair and yanked back, hard, causing excruciating pain and forcing her to look up at him through teary eyes.

"I will let this slide, just this once," he said in a low and deadly voice. "But the game is on. You agreed to do this. If I were you,_Mudblood_, I'd do everything in my power not to lose, because I promise you… You won't like it if you do." His fist in her hair tightened and she whimpered slightly. "Make a list of people you think could judge fairly and _discreetly_ and, if it's a good list, I will choose someone from it. If not, then I will find someone on my own. You are not getting out of this. I will turn myself in if I have to, just to see you go down with me. Your only hope is to win. Am I making myself clear?"

Hermione nodded. It was a very slight nod, seeing as she could barely move her head, but a nod just the same. She was too stunned by the violence to be able to do anything else. He then wrenched the ring from her finger and abruptly let her go. She gasped as her skull began prickling painfully.

"You bastard," she whispered. "You disgusting, slimy, piece of—"

"Get used to it, Granger," he interrupted in a tight voice. He had placed the set back in its box and closed it. "I'm done making efforts for you and your kind."

"Nott won't like this," she mumbled.

"Nott won't _hear_ about this," Draco replied. "Because even if you don't care about your word, which I'm suddenly not at all sure that you do, he would turn us both in and then I would be happy to show Dumbledore what you just did."

Hermione blushed a little. "What I _did_ was—"

"Inexcusable!" he cut in. "Don't bother claiming that you couldn't have thought of something less intrusive. If I were you, I'd start studying."

He slammed the door on his way out. Hermione scowled at the door. She didn't understand why he'd be so upset. He'd had perfectly reasonable answers for everything, and it wasn't as if she was going to tell anyone. It hadn't been so terribly wrong of her to ask the only two things she had been genuinely interested in knowing… had it?

* * *

**Had it, indeed... Next: Kissing, but between who:P And also, Hermione is acting distracted... (God, I love doing this)**


	9. Chapter 9

**And here's the first update in 2008. :)**

**This chapter gave me serious problems, I had to edit it heavily before I was satisfied **

* * *

"So, tell me, Draco… Did someone inadvertently cast a Cheering Charm on you?"

Draco scowled at Blaise, whose expression remained perfectly deadpan for once. He knew he was letting on that he was in an extremely bad mood, but so what? Blaise should just be happy that he'd chosen not to rant and rave. Well, actually he hadn't chosen it; he _couldn't_ rant and rave, because he couldn't risk anyone knowing what he was up to until it was a done deal. Not even Blaise and _especially_ not Theo.

"You _have_ been out of sorts lately," Theo supplied with one of his pensive gazes. "And it's not exactly like you to keep it inside."

They were sitting in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, Draco on the couch with his long legs stretched out in front of him, Blaise at the other end of the couch, and Theo in a comfortable armchair, facing them. Other Slytherins were scattered about the common room, but these particular three Slytherins were largely left in peace, because most of the younger students were intimidated by their older housemates. It was a nice boon to be the biggest, baddest around. Draco half-heartedly extended his scowl to include Theo, but, unsurprisingly, it had little effect. The two others merely kept staring at him.

"Can't a bloke even be allowed to be in a bad mood every once in a while?" he murmured.

"Sure he can," Theo replied. "But yours hasn't changed at all for three days straight. It's annoying."

"I'm touched by your concern," Draco grumbled.

"I'm going to have to go with Theo on this one," Blaise said. "You're being a pain, snap out of it!"

"I'm not that bad!" Draco objected, even as images of how he would like to make the Head Girl beg for mercy danced before his eyes. Bitch.

"Not that bad?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow. "I just asked you what you thought we should do with the fourth year, who was caught peeking in the girls' bathroom, and you replied to stand him outside in a puddle in the pouring rain, while we hurl lightning spells at him!"

"Oh, yeah…" Draco fought an evil grin. That fantasy hadn't exactly been about the dumb fourth year, who had gotten _caught_ peeking. The two others looked at him expectantly, and he realized that he was expected to answer more than that. "I, um, well, it's important to preserve the girls' dignity or virtue or… uh…"

"Modesty and privacy?" Blaise drily suggested.

"Yeah, all of that." Draco waved a hand dismissively.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," Blaise said in the same dry voice. "But weren't you _organizing_ peep shows in _our_ fourth year?"

Draco winced. "I learned my lesson, believe me." He shuddered.

"How so?" Blaise asked. "I don't remember you getting caught."

Draco scowled. "Why don't you ask Mr. Know-It-All here? I'm sure he could tell you." He gestured loosely towards Theo, hoping to divert the attention a bit.

Theo's eyebrow went up. "I didn't know about the peep shows," he said. "But if you weren't caught, then it would be a pretty good guess that you saw something you didn't want to see."

Blaise snorted with suppressed laughter. "What? You saw Bulstrode in all her glory?"

Draco tried to shake the mental image that Blaise had just conjured. "Uh… No. Stop fishing; I'm not going to tell you. If I don't tell you, then it _never happened_."

Blaise now laughed out loud and Theo smirked. "Not Slytherin showers, then?" he asked.

"We have other ugly girls than Bulstrode," Draco felt the need to point out. "Remember Darlene Dunn?"

Blaise shuddered theatrically. "You have my sympathy if you saw her naked."

"She graduated in our third year, though," Theo said, looking smug.

"I didn't say it _was_ her," Draco said and felt a sudden urge to change the subject. "Are any of you planning on doing some studying tonight?"

Theo shook his head and Blaise's laughter subsided and he rolled his eyes.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Aren't you ever going to spend some time with your girlfriend?" Blaise inquired.

Draco glanced over at Pansy, talking animatedly to Daphne, while Tracey held herself a little bit apart as usual. Being a half-blood, Tracey was a very fortunate witch to be accepted as part of the Slytherin pureblood in-crowd, even if she was on the bottom of the ladder. Nobody could really fault her for telling Pansy about her relationship to Blaise, the girl had probably been under huge pressure. His eyes went back to Pansy, who didn't really seemed to be missing him right now.

"Uh… Nah…" he very eloquently said. "We hung out yesterday. No reason to overdo it."

"I don't get you," Blaise mumbled. "You claim to be _in_ a relationship, yet you treat your girlfriend like some…" He abruptly clenched his jaw shut, not finishing the sentence.

"Like some what?" Draco asked in a deadly calm voice, his eyes narrowing.

Theo looked a bit apprehensive but didn't interfere. He knew better than to meddle in these matters.

Blaise looked away for a second, but then he spoke. "You hardly acknowledge her in public and you don't even seem to care to have her around in private that often either. What you want is not a girlfriend, it's a—"

"You know what?" Draco interrupted. "Maybe you _don't_ want to finish that sentence, after all."

Blaise shrugged but didn't say anything.

"Why do you care, anyway?" Draco asked, genuinely befuddled.

Blaise shrugged again. "I don't really, it just seems like you don't know a good thing when you have it. You might live to regret that." He fell silent and shook his head.

Draco frowned. This made no sense to him. He knew that Blaise wasn't the least bit romantically interested in Pansy, and he was fooling around with that Davis girl, anyway. He glanced at Blaise, who wasn't exhibiting any emotions at all. Was he jealous because he wanted a girlfriend? He could have his pick of pretty much any girl in their House, if he wanted. And quite a few outside of it too, to be honest. Why would he want a girlfriend, though, when he got everything from Tracey without all the tedious work of being a boyfriend?

Draco sighed, not comprehending, and glanced over at Pansy and her posse. In doing so, he caught Tracey gazing wistfully at Blaise. He barely suppressed a groan as a revelation hit him. But that couldn't be. Blaise wouldn't _want_ to play boyfriend to Tracey, would he? Although, that would explain perfectly why he was so bitter towards Draco – if Blaise couldn't have Tracey, the way that Draco had Pansy, and if he felt that Draco wasn't appreciative of what he had. Then again, he could be jumping to conclusions, since this was only based on _her_ making moony eyes at _him_.

Oh, bloody hell.

He couldn't really figure out this mess, but at least he could try to appease Blaise a little bit with a small sacrifice of his own. He would gleefully skin anyone who called him on paying attention to his girlfriend in order to make one of his best friends happy, though. It just seemed… tacky.

"Hey, Pansy!" he called out.

"Hey, Draco!" she replied in a fairly good imitation of his voice. Someone giggled.

Draco groaned. He would have to get up from his very comfortable position here. The vixen wasn't about to let him summon her over as if she were… Well, what Blaise had been about to suggest that he treated her as.

"Excuse me," Draco said to a startled Blaise and walked around him over to where his girlfriend was seated with her back to him. He hauled her to her feet, ignoring her indignant squeak.

"A gentleman would say please," she informed him as he turned her to face him. "What's this, then?"

"My friends think I'm neglecting you," he answered.

"Oh, your _friends_ do, do they?" she quipped.

"Shut up," he mumbled and drew her closer for a kiss.

He wasn't particularly fond of public shows of affection. In fact, he hated them. He didn't hold hands _ever_, and usually, if he kissed Pansy in front of others, it was only on the cheek or something similarly chaste. Every once in a while, he would allow her to touch him in affectionate ways, but he never felt quite comfortable with it. She knew this and that was probably why she stiffened slightly in surprise when his lips covered hers. She had soft, delectable lips; lips that he had probably kissed a thousand times before, yet he had never done so in their common room and _never_ in full view of half of their house.

"Think your friends are appeased now?" she asked in a light tone of voice, when he drew back a few seconds later.

It didn't fool him; it was a long time since she had been able to fool him like this. She was hurt. She probably thought that he was doing this just because he was being ribbed by his friends, after he had growled at her several times, when she just wanted to show him affection publicly. What a mess. Now he had to fix this too.

He glanced over at Blaise and Theo, who weren't openly looking at them. He knew they were watching just the same.

"Yeah…" he said, before making a decision and pulling her in again.

"What now?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"This is for me," he whispered against her lips. This time she didn't stiffen and her arms slowly went around his neck. This actually didn't feel so bad, after all. He could probably live with doing it every once in a while.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Hermione jumped in her seat and hid the parchment from view. "N-nothing," she said, eyeing Ron warily. "Head Girl stuff," she specified, when he looked at her oddly.

He took a seat across from her. She was sitting at the library as usual, with an enormous amount of books in front of her, and she hurried to move some of them out of the way and, in the process, slip the parchment in between them. There was no way she could explain what it was if he saw it and decided to question her.

"And you couldn't do that in the common room?" he quietly asked her.

Hermione felt an all too familiar twinge of guilt. "Perhaps I could," she admitted. "But I would still not have time to talk and—"

"I miss you," he stated. "You're drawing away from us. We know you're busy. We understand that, and we're happy for you… But you can't just forget about us like this, not after everything…" He seemed unable to finish the sentence.

Hermione stared at Ron with her eyes wide. "I haven't forgotten about you," she whispered. "That's not it at all."

"Prove it," he said. "Prove it to me. Put all this away and come with me back to the common room now and from now on make more time for us… for me."

Hermione glanced at where she had hid the parchment. Well… Malfoy actually hadn't put a time on when she should have the list for him and, besides, why should he call all the shots? Next time, she'd have her wand at the ready. She smiled at her friend. "Of course, Ron," she said. "Let me just put these books back…"

A few minutes later, she was walking back to her common room with Ron and promising herself that she was going to change her ways. She couldn't keep them thinking that she was forgetting about them and that they weren't important to her anymore. She just had to swallow her stupid pride. It wasn't like Nott and the Deputies didn't have any free time. She would get over this, starting tonight!

* * *

"Do you have something for me?"

Hermione glared at the arrogant blond, who had stopped her without as much as a greeting. It was the next day, she was almost late for class, and she _really_ had neither the time nor the inclination to argue with him.

"No," she replied and began walking around him as he grabbed her arm.

"What do you mean 'no'? We had a deal!" Draco looked incensed. She was sure to feel sorry about that any minute now… or not.

"You didn't say when," she informed him. "And I've had other things to do." She shook his arm off of her and he let go without a fuss.

He snorted. "Everybody knows you have no life, and it's almost been a bloody week!"

She ignored his first statement and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were so eager to become my slave."

His eyes narrowed. "Tonight," he hissed. "You will give me a list by tonight or I will find someone myself."

"I can't," she said, shaking her head. "It's Wednesday and I have to meet with Nott this afternoon…"

"Perfect," he interrupted with a smirk. "Then I know where to find you."

He walked around her and away and Hermione had to stifle a groan. She had better make the list or all hell would break loose and she'd risk being saddled with a Slytherin judge, who would share all the answers with Malfoy. She shuddered slightly at the thought of losing to him. Wearing the bracelet had been the most unpleasant thing she had ever had to do, and it had only been for a few minutes! Wearing it for a month was simply unthinkable.

Hermione wasn't wont to procrastinate at all; it simply wasn't in her nature. Yet, this list just didn't want to be written. She had stared at her parchment for longer than she cared to think about, trying to come up with someone, anyone, who she could be certain would not be bribed or bullied by Malfoy or any of his friends, while at the same time being bookish enough to put together the questions.

The list was lamentably short.

It couldn't be anyone Slytherin, of course. And she severely doubted that Draco would accept anyone Gryffindor. That left Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Between sixth and seventh year, that was 40 students in total. She didn't know if Draco got off his high horse long enough to be friendly with any of them, but she had to assume that he'd disqualify anyone being friendly with her and probably anyone being Muggleborn as well… That left roughly 25. She couldn't be sure of the blood status of everyone, but Draco was sure to know, being the ultimate pureblood fanatic that he was.

Hermione spent the better part of her Ancient Runes class trying to work this out, earning some very strange looks that she didn't even notice, when she didn't put her hand up one single time.

She wondered if he'd disqualify people just for being Hufflepuff as well. She'd bet he would. That left about ten people… Wait, that couldn't be right. She counted again. Yes, there were only ten left, and she had yet to look at their intelligence!

"_Miss Granger!_"

Hermione jumped in her seat. "Y-yes, Professor Babbling?" she stammered.

The professor looked at her disapprovingly. "Pay better attention now. I asked you to translate from page 63."

Blushing profusely, Hermione did as she was told.

* * *

**Teaser for next chapter? Well, Draco says, "Granger and I are the best of friends. Aren't we, Granger?" whereto Hermione replies: "We're bosom buddies." You think Nott will buy that? ;) **


	10. Chapter 10

**I quite literally feel like roadkill (I'm sick) so forgive me any grammatical oversight. **

* * *

Hermione was sitting at the conference table, working on another one of her blasted patrol schedules. It was hard to plan very far ahead, because something always came up. Quidditch practice, a cold, detention… Prefects weren't supposed to _get_ detentions! And she had to make it fit with one boy and one girl per round, because, naturally, there could be no mention of two boys or two girls going together! It was bothersome to say the least, but she was told over and over again that it was tradition to have boy/girl shared responsibilities, so who was she to argue? And, of course, nobody wanted to go too often and, gee, what about some inter-house mingling, while she was at it? She realized she had dug herself into another hole with her planning and angrily crossed everything out. 

"Are you sure you can't go tomorrow?" she asked Nott. _I will give you my firstborn!_

"Yes," he very calmly replied. "I went yesterday and I need to study for a test. I told you this three times already."

Hermione groaned. He _had_ told her. Her fingers were stained with ink and her quill was frayed at the end from her chewing on it. She was going to have to ask Malfoy if he could do it. He was her absolute last hope. She sighed.

"Does Malfoy have that test too?" she asked.

"No, he does not take Advanced History of Magic."

Hermione snorted before she could help herself and Nott stopped writing something in mid-sentence and looked up at her from where he was seated at his desk.

"Um, good," she hurriedly said. "He'll get a chance to save the day, then."

The glance he shot her clearly told her that he wasn't buying it, but he didn't comment and continued his scribbling instead.

Suddenly, the door opened and her least favorite person entered. He was early. He must have gotten impatient, or perhaps he hoped to find her without a list so that he had an excuse to pick one of his own friends. Unfortunately for him, she _had_ a list.

Without a greeting, Draco strolled in and noisily pulled out the chair in front of Hermione and sat down. He put his elbows on the table and folded his arms, staring at her, waiting for her to look up from her schedules, which somehow suddenly required all of her attention.

"Play nice, Draco," Theo said from his desk, not indicating any surprise that Draco had arrived. "Don't bother her."

A flash of irritation flittered across Draco's features before he adopted a smug look. "I'm not bothering her," he replied. "Granger and I are the best of friends. Aren't we, Granger?"

Hermione couldn't keep her head from snapping up and Draco smirked at her. Damn it. She scowled at him and his smirk widened.

"Yes…" she finally answered. "We're bosom buddies." She smiled very sweetly at him and his gaze flickered. "So, tell me, _friend_… Can you do rounds tomorrow?"

Draco wrinkled his nose in a look of pure disgust. "No," he replied.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

_Because I don't bloody feel like it._

"Err…" He glanced at Theo. "Quidditch practice."

Hermione's eyes snapped. "Hufflepuff has the pitch tomorrow."

Oh, bother. She kept up with that, did she? He supposed she had to.

"I have to study," he said.

"Oh, you mean for the test in Charms?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, that."

"There_is_ no test in Charms," Hermione coldly informed him. "I'm putting you down for rounds."

Draco looked to Nott for help. "She can't do that, can she?"

"I would prefer you leave me out of this," Nott replied. "But yes, she can."

Hermione smirked and Draco groaned. He really didn't want to do rounds tomorrow. He'd just finished doing his week of solitary rounds a couple of days ago. He'd been looking forward to lots of rounds-free nights.

"Buck up, Malfoy," Hermione smugly said. "Perhaps Unspeakable Evil will kill you before you have been out long."

He made a face at her. "Just tell me I'm not doing them with _you_."

Hermione hesitated and Draco felt his panic rising. "Well, I'm sorry but…" she began. His fingers were digging into his own arms as he prayed fervently to hear anything but '_yes, you are'_. "Your partner will be… Tara Stanwood!" She smirked. "Fifth year Hufflepuff. Very friendly, there won't be a quiet moment. You'll _love_ that." Her smirk widened at the thought of the annoying Hufflepuff girl that she'd just paired him with.

He slowly let out his breath and closed his eyes as relief swept him. He wouldn't have to deal with the intolerable Mudblood again before one of them was on a leash, so to speak.

"I don't bloody care as long as she's not you," he said, meaning it with all his heart. "Did you have something for me?"

Hermione pulled out the parchment and handed it to him. He stared at it for a few seconds, before he finally spoke.

"Granger," he said in a strained voice. "There are only _two_ names on here."

She nodded. "Yes, that is correct."

"You had to spend the better part of a week before you could come up with_two_ people?"

"Well, it's not easy when three houses are disqualified per default," she replied indignantly.

"Three… Why on earth are three houses disqualified?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.

She gave him a look of utter contempt. "Please," she said. "You won't accept Gryffindor, I won't accept Slytherin, and you are _always_ after Hufflepuff."

"So you already decided who I would and would not accept, did you?" he irritably asked.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not as if I didn't have a pretty good idea!"

"I'm almost afraid to ask…" a musing voice interrupted them.

Nott. They had both temporarily forgotten him. Hermione's head whipped around to look at him and then back at Malfoy, her eyes wide, and her lips parted, as she considered whether he was going to say anything and what she'd do if he did. Nothing could be further from Draco's mind, though. Theo was possibly the only Slytherin, who would turn Draco in for what he was planning. It was the downside of him knowing him so well. A slight look of panic crossed Draco's face and then when he realized that Hermione was looking at him, he gave a small shake of his head. So they both stayed quiet.

Nott's eyebrows went up. "I see," he said, sounding almost amused. "Well, if you two agree, it can't possibly be good and I think I prefer not to know. Just tell me that whatever it is, it's not against school rules."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other again and Nott actually moaned.

"It… It isn't. Not _really_," Hermione ventured. The bet itself and holding a contest wasn't against any school rules. Enslaving a fellow student, however, might be slightly frowned upon.

Draco must have thought the same thing, because he raised one sardonic eyebrow and stayed quiet.

"Why are you corrupting the Head Girl, Draco?" Nott asked with a sigh.

Draco gaped in indignation. "_Me?_ I'm not doing anything!"

Hermione snorted and got a curious glance from Nott and a warning one from Malfoy.

Malfoy took the parchment and got up before Nott could ask any more questions. "Right, I'll leave you two to it, then," he said. "Have fun."

"You, too, on your rounds tomorrow," Hermione sweetly replied, earning her a murderous glance from Malfoy before he left.

* * *

Hermione wearily rolled her neck as she left the Charms classroom. It had been a long, long day in a long, long week and she was glad it was finally over. She was more than ready for a weekend of just hanging around the common room with her friends, possibly helping Ron learn how not to set fire to things or cover people in scales. She turned a corner and wrinkled her nose in distaste, when she saw Malfoy with his bag slung over his left shoulder, leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone. Was it really too much to ask to go for any length of time without seeing his hateful face? 

"Took you long enough, Granger," he drawled. "I was beginning to think I had to stand here all day."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, not thrilled that he was cutting into her weekend time.

"It's all set up," he said. "So be at the Heads' office tonight after my rounds."

Hermione shook her head. "What? You… What? Did you find someone?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if she were slow. "Yes, one of the many, _many_ prospects you gave me, actually. Cornfoot, his name was."

"But he still needs time to make questions," she protested. "Enough that we won't run out!"

"He says he can do it by tonight," Draco calmly answered. "You put him on the list, so you should have some faith in him."

"We also need to work out a contract of sorts," Hermione insisted.

"A_what?_"

She waved her hand. "To make sure that certain boundaries aren't crossed."

At this, his eyes glinted dangerously. "A little late for that, isn't it?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. She hadn't done anything that was that bad. Why didn't he just get over that she'd asked him a couple of questions? "No, I mean it, Malfoy. There are certain things that we simply should not be able to do!"

"Afraid you're going to lose, are you?" he asked with a smirk.

She glared at him. "Maybe I'm afraid that I'm going to win," she said in a cold voice. "And that without anything to stop me I will do irreparable harm."

Draco nodded at that. "Fair enough, we'll do your little contract thing."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at how quickly he'd given in. She studied him, but he didn't seem to be up to anything; he looked perfectly serious. It was odd. She didn't like it.

"Then we need time to do it," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "You've got plenty of time, haven't you? Just bring around whatever you've got and I'll look at it after the bloody rounds that _you_ forced on me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you rushing this?" she asked him.

"Because I'm tired of wasting time," he retorted, as he pushed away from the wall and turned his back on her. "Come tonight, one of us is wearing that bracelet!"

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was still half full. Hermione checked her watch. It was 1 a.m. and Draco's rounds would be done soon. She had promised she would do this, and she hated not to be on time. Besides, she couldn't wait to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. The first thing she would demand would be that he became the protector of all first years and Hufflepuffs. He would _love_ that. The thought made her almost anxious to win. 

She stood and began collecting her parchments from the small table, she had been sitting at, and getting ready to go.

"Going to bed?" Ron asked her, looking a little disappointed.

She shook her head. "I have to go take care of something. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but don't wait up for me."

"What, now?" he asked, leaning towards her. "Can't it wait till tomorrow? Look around you, Hermione. There's actual _fun_ here!"

She sighed. "I know, Ron. I'll try to hurry, but it really has to be now. I'm sorry." She bent to peck him on the cheek. "See you later."

Ron didn't reply, but just leaned back in his chair again, gazing darkly at her.

She turned around and bumped into Harry.

"Whoa," he said good-naturedly. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Away to a place that doesn't have us in it," Ron grumbled.

She glanced back at him. "That's not fair, Ron. I still need to do my job. It's an honor to be Head Girl and I have responsibilities."

"Yeah?" he asked, rising from his chair. "Well, sometimes I wish you hadn't gotten Head Girl at all, then maybe you'd still have time to be a _friend!_" He brushed past her to his dormitory.

Hermione stood, staring after him in shock for a few moments, before she felt Harry touch her arm.

"He just misses you," he said. "He'll be ok once he sees you taking more time for him."

She sighed. "I just feel so guilty," she mumbled.

"Don't," Harry replied with a self-deprecating smile. "It's just as much my fault. With Ginny and all… Ron is left to his own devices most of the time. He's probably mostly bored."

Hermione didn't know what to reply to that. "I'll hurry back," she said. "But I really must…"

"Of course," Harry said with a smile and a hug. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

The office was mostly dark when Hermione let herself in, but, of course, it would have been too much to hope for that Malfoy hadn't arrived yet. 

"You're late," he pointed out in a weary and slightly annoyed voice from his chair by the fireplace. "And, by the way, thank you for pairing me with that tiresome little bitch. I'll get you for that."

Hermione shrugged and hid a smirk. "It was difficult to get away," she said, intentionally ignoring his crude statement about Tara and revenge. She went to the table and spread out her parchments. "Where's Cornfoot?"

Draco waved a hand dismissively. "He'll be here in a few minutes. There was no reason for him to stand around for this, was there? Of course, since you're _late_, he's probably going to have to, after all."

She shot him an annoyed glance. "Some of us have friends, you know. What was I going to say? That I was coming here to meet _you?_"

Draco snorted at that. "I don't like waiting," he grumbled. "When I win this thing you'd better be quicker about doing what I tell you to."

Her head snapped up from where she had been organizing her documents. "In the unlikely event that you win, I should gladly be at your beck and call," she sneered, losing patience with him. "But right now – stop your prattling and come look over this."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, he did as she asked. She lit a lamp, while he sat down at the table to look at her first draft for a contract. He wearily rubbed his eyes, and then he began reading. He went completely still and then he smirked. Before Hermione could ask him what was so amusing, he burst out laughing.

"What?" she asked with a frown. She didn't appreciate him just laughing at her efforts.

"_This_ is your contract?" he asked with a shake of his head and another snort of laughter. "All I can say is: You wish!"

* * *

**Next chapter: More about the contract and the winner is...**


	11. Chapter 11

**The contract bit looks stupid on here, because I couldn't keep my formatting which had lines through it. If you want to take a look at the "real" contract you can read this chapter on www(dot)quietones(dot)org(fwd slash)archive(fwd slash) where it's included as a screen.**

**And, oh yeah... If you're just going to whine and/or go on about when there'll be some DMHG action, don't bother to review/comment/message me. This is an actual story, not your personal quick fix. For them to have a relationship with one having complete control over the other? No, that's another genre you'll be wanting for that. **

* * *

The door opened and Stephen Cornfoot entered the Head Students' office to see the Head Girl standing with her arms crossed, scowling at the Deputy Head Boy, who was sitting with some parchments spread out in front of him, smirking. 

"Eh… is this a bad time?" he asked, gaining the attention of them both.

"No, not at all," Hermione said. "Malfoy here is just catering to his inner child – as usual."

"And Granger here is just being delusional – as usual," Draco retorted.

"Uh…" Stephen said, feeling rather uncomfortable.

Draco indicated the couch with an arm. "We'll just be a minute."

Relieved to be out of the line of fire, Stephen went to the couch and sat down, organizing his parchments a bit. He had no idea why it had been so important to Draco Malfoy that he do this, but Malfoy had been willing to pay and Stephen was always strapped for cash.

"Ok, Malfoy," Hermione ground out. "What's so funny?"

"First things first," he replied, picking up her quill and scratching something out. "This definitely has to go."

Hermione looked over his shoulder and gasped indignantly. "No way! You can't scratch that!"

"I can and I will," he irritably replied. "Or we can skip this whole contract altogether."

"So you _do_ plan on trying to get me expelled by interfering with my homework?" she demanded.

He rubbed a spot between his eyes wearily. "No, Granger, and it's not bloody likely to happen with you. You could probably take the NEWTs tomorrow, if you had to. But if I wasn't allowed to cut into your _homework_ time, I wouldn't have any fun winning, seeing as I'd only get to order you around for five minutes a week."

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off.

"That condition goes and that's the end of it!" he snapped.

Hermione huffed. "Fine," she gritted out. "But I don't see why you get to dictate all the terms!"

Draco stared at her. "I haven't dictated a damn thing!" he blurted out. "These are all _your_ terms! I swear, sometimes I don't know just _where_ you get your logic."

Hermione blushed a little. "I added some of them for you!" she defended herself. "Look, _no personal questions_."

He scratched it off and she gaped.

"What did you do that for?" she spluttered. "_You_ are the one who has been making a big deal out of a couple of questions! I thought you'd _like_ that term!"

"I'm touched, Granger," he replied, not sounding particularly touched at all. "But I don't really have anything else to hide. Having you know that I could ask you anything at any time, if I win, is worth it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then stared as he scratched more things off her perfect little list.

"Is there anything you _do_ want to keep?" she asked in a scathing voice.

"Not really, no," he replied. "But I'm letting _you_ keep some."

"It's to protect you, too, you know," she pointed out.

"Which brings us to… _No ordering of sexual acts of any kind_," he read the last bit out loud with a smirk. "I would _really_ like to know who that's protecting."

"Me," she simply replied.

He snorted. "As I said: You wish."

She wrinkled her nose. "No, I _really_ don't. And as if you wouldn't ask me to snog poor Neville or something equally mean, if you had the chance!"

He looked slightly intrigued by this. "Hadn't occurred to me," he said. "Bloody good idea, though. Very underhanded. I _should_ have thought of it."

"It stays," Hermione hissed. "That term stays."

Draco sighed wistfully but nodded. "I suppose I see why you might not want me to do that. Besides, I can't risk you taking advantage of me."

Hermione closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten as her fists balled up. She was positively _itching_ to deck him.

"No use mourning your loss," he added when she didn't say anything. "The decision has been made and the term stays. You wanted this, remember?"

She mutely glared at him and he smirked and returned to the task of ruining her work.

"All right, then," he finally said after a while. "This you may keep."

She took the document from him and read it.

_The loser of this bet will be under obligation to obey the winner for 30 (thirty) days in all manners NOT extending to include the following,_

_"No actions designed to get the wearer of the bracelet or anyone else expelled are allowed. This includes, but is not limited to, __crude and obvious pranks, interfering with school work and__ inciting of others."_ had had "_crude and obvious pranks"_ and _"interfering with school work"_crossed out.

_"No personal questions, using the ring as the means to get an answer"_ had been crossed out entirely, as had_ "No interfering with daily routines or eliciting too obvious changes in the bracelet bearer's behavior"_ and _"No interfering with personal relationships."_

_"No violence to self or others. Any kind of violent or physically__ uncomfortable or__ harmful act, directly or indirectly ordered by the wearer of the ring, will be considered a breach of contract and terminate the bet immediately!" _had largely been left alone, except the crossing out of "_uncomfortable_" and he'd allowed her to keep all of _"No ordering of sexual acts of any kind, to or with self or others. This involves any form of kissing or inappropriate touching. Scenarios involving nudity will also be considered sexual acts and a breach of contract, terminating the bet immediately!"_

_This contract will be placed under a curse by the loser's choice._

_Signed…_

"Gee, thanks," she grumbled. "I think you missed a line…"

"You want your contract or not?" he asked with a weary sigh. "Make up your mind; I'm sure Cornfoot doesn't have all night."

Hermione knew better than to throw away what little she had gotten, but that didn't mean she was happy about it. So she just scowled at him and sat down and copied the remaining conditions over on a fresh piece of parchment and handed him the quill.

"Sign!"

He made an annoyed sound, but again, he actually did as she asked. Hermione briefly wondered if he could be trained to obey a certain tone of voice like a dog and had to grin at the idea. He scowled at her while she signed the document as well.

Draco got up and walked over to Cornfoot, mumbling something that Hermione couldn't hear to the Ravenclaw, who nodded and got up, walking over to Hermione with his scrolls of parchment. Draco himself turned to the end table between the two armchairs and picked up the box that Hermione had seen only once before.

They were really going to do this. They were really going to carry out this bet. She eyed the box apprehensively as Draco brought it over and he smirked coldly at her look.

"Feeling nervous, are you?" he asked silkily. "Feel free to forfeit any time; I might go easier on you, then."

She sniffed. "Shove it, Malfoy, and sit down so we can get started."

He narrowed his eyes at her and went around the table to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"Uh… right," Stephen said, clearing his throat. "The rules are as follows. One of you will get a question and if correct, the other one will get the next question. If one of you should fail to answer, the other one will get the chance to reply, and if he or she is correct, he or she will have won. Any questions?"

"Get on with it already," Draco sneered. "Some of us would like to get some sleep tonight."

"Yes, do hurry," Hermione added. "Malfoy _so_ needs his beauty sleep."

"You could do with a little yourself, Granger," he retorted.

Stephen cleared his throat again. "It will be faster _without_ interruptions," he admonished them.

They both glared at him and he shrank back a little. Next time he had to remember that he wasn't _that _much in need of Malfoy's galleons. Before he could begin, however, the door opened to reveal the Head Boy. Draco sank down in his chair a bit and moaned.

"What's this?" Nott softly asked.

"We're hanging out?" Draco ventured without much hope for success.

"Yes," Nott replied. "I have noticed your newfound… joy… with the company of the Head Girl."

Draco scowled, but held his tongue. It was impressive how he seemed to be able to restrain himself.

"Granger?" Nott asked.

She sighed. "We're just having a competition," she said. "Who's better at wizarding history. Nothing interesting."

"Well, that would certainly explain why Cornfoot is here," he said. "Although, it doesn't explain why you're doing it in the middle of the night. And on a Friday, no less."

Draco shot him a dark look. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Theo?"

"No," he replied, taking a seat. "Carry on."

Draco scowled but motioned for Cornfoot to resume.

"Err… Right… Granger," Stephen said, "When was St. Mungo's founded?"

"1603," Hermione replied, looking bored with the question.

"Who invented Floo Powder?" Stephen went on.

Draco had to agree with her for once. "Ignatia Wildsmith," he replied. "Step it up a bit, Cornfoot."

"Who was the first wizard to be gored by an African Erumpent?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Wilfred Elphick."

"Malfoy, when?"

"1199." He smirked as Hermione scowled at him for knowing such a simple answer. She really had thought this would be easy, hadn't she? He deliberately ignored Nott, hoping against hope that he'd go away.

Cornfoot's questions grew more specific. But still not even a sign of hesitation from the two contestants. Several questions were asked and answered, without neither of them needing much time to think at all. He skipped ahead a bit.

"Who invented the Cheering Charm?"

"Felix Summerbee."

"Who _originally _discovered the use of Gillyweed?"

"Elladora Ketteridge…"

Stephen sighed and skipped a few more sections.

"When did Gorgott rise to power?" he asked Draco.

Draco blinked. Gorgott? That was a goblin name. His family never had much to do with the goblins and the Goblin Rebellion. He noticed that Hermione perked up, a slow smirk spreading on her face as he hesitated. _Fuck_. "Uh…" he said, trying to collect his thoughts. _Think, Draco!_ "1667?" he replied. He seemed to be able to remember that it was somewhere around that time.

"Incorrect," Stephen said.

Draco felt like somebody had punched him and he blanched. This was definitely not a part of his plan. He wasn't supposed to be _her_ slave. Merlin, who knew what some disgusting do-gooder like her would make him do? What she would make him reveal? He broke out in a sweat and he felt dangerously close to hyperventilating.

"Granger?" Stephen asked.

She frowned as she concentrated, trying to work out the numbers. Draco held his breath, praying for a miracle. "1659?"

Stephen was looking a little stunned, but also amused. "Also incorrect," he said. "It's 1669."

Draco let out his breath and closed his eyes as he sagged slightly. She had botched it. He didn't think he'd ever felt this relieved before.

"Well, at least I was closer," said Hermione, blushing slightly at getting it wrong.

Draco ground his teeth. "What do you mean you were closer? I was _two_ years off and you were _ten_ years off!"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Mine sounded more like it."

She made no sense! No news there, really…

The questions went on.

And on.

And on…

Stephen was almost afraid that he would run out of questions, but as annoyed as both the contestants were looking by now, he feared that that might be the least of his problems. He was in the middle of a war zone. He wished he'd just said no when Malfoy had approached him.

"When did Morrigan the Wise prophesize the birth of Oswald Beamish?"

It was Hermione's turn. Oswald Beamish. He had something to do with Goblin rights, too, didn't he? And he was born in the 19th century, so he'd probably been prophesized sometime after the Goblin Rebellion had been thwarted. Yes, she believed she had just read about it. It had said… "1760," she said.

A look of stunned glee slowly spread across Malfoy's features, and she looked up at Cornfoot.

"That is incorrect," he said. "Malfoy?"

"1750," he said without hesitation.

"Correct."

And just like that… she had lost.

"Th-that can't be," she mumbled.

"Beamish was born in 1850 and it was prophesized 100 years earlier, to the day, the same year the Rebellion ended," Stephen said. "It _is_ correct."

Hermione looked to Nott for validation and he nodded. It was true. She had lost. To _Malfoy_. She felt like she was going to be sick and was swallowing convulsively.

Malfoy leaned in over the table and said in a low voice, "Told you, you should have gotten third edition."

He leaned back again to watch her disbelief and panic. He really should be going back to his dorms soon. He'd been awake for much longer than he cared to, yet in spite of his lack of rest, he had actually beat Hermione Granger at a game about knowledge. Now, wasn't that something? Of course, he'd known he would all along… He ignored the feeling of immense relief that belied his confidence.

"Show's over," he said, directed at Theo, who was frowning slightly. "I won."

He really didn't want Theo to stick around to see what came next.

"Indeed, I noticed," Theo replied. "And congratulations. But _what_ did you win?"

"Buckets of galleons?" Draco said. "Everlasting glory?" He gave up on getting rid of Theo. He wasn't going to go anywhere, and knowing him, he'd find out about this really soon, anyway. Draco sighed at the thought of losing his position, but he hoped that Theo wouldn't take it further than that.

"About galleons…" Cornfoot interjected.

Draco nodded and got up from his chair, taking Cornfoot aside. Money exchanged hands before Cornfoot left. Hermione gaped.

"You_ bribed_ him?" she asked incredulously when Draco returned to the table. "If you think that I'm—"

"I didn't bribe him," he irritably cut her off. "I paid him for his time and work. If it'll make you feel better, you now owe me 10 galleons."

"You paid him 10 galleons?"

"No, I paid him 20." He shook his head as she stared at him. Did she really think that anyone would go through that much trouble for a couple of strangers just because they said _'please'?_

"20 galleons! But that's… that's…" she spluttered.

"That's enough to keep him quiet, is what it is. Now, stop stalling and put the damn thing on!"

She stilled and stared at the box. He crossed his arms and waited. Making her put it on herself would be a terrific beginning.

"First, I… We've got to sign this thing again for the magic to take effect," she mumbled, placing the curse on the parchment and adding her name directly below where she had the first time.

Was her hand shaking? He didn't think he'd ever seen her afraid of him before. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Yep, Nott's still here and nope, he's not liking this one bit...** **"Do you _want_ to wear the bracelet, Granger? Do you _want_ him to abuse and humiliate you? Because I guarantee you - he will." **


	12. Chapter 12

**A galleon is still £5/$10.**

**I'm so tired... **

* * *

Draco added his name next to Hermione's on the contract and then once again stood back to watch as Hermione fidgeted and stared at the box. 

"Want me to show you how to open it?" he coolly asked.

Her eyes snapped to him and narrowed, pinning him with all her dislike. He just raised an amused eyebrow.

Finally, she reached out for the box and flipped it open, staring into it.

Draco sighed impatiently. "Get moving, Granger. I don't have all night."

She sneered at him, but finally she plucked out the bracelet and slid it on, thrusting the box at Draco, so he could help himself to the ring. He did so, very slowly, enjoying her look of fear and loathing. She knew he wouldn't go easy on her. She knew this would quite possibly be the worst month of her life. She knew what he was capable of. He looked her straight in the eye and smirked as he slid on the ring, feeling the slight tingle of magic and the intoxicating knowledge that he was in complete control. He could do practically anything to her.

"I can't allow this," Nott calmly said, and Draco's head whipped up to look at the other Slytherin, who was now standing with the contract in his hand. From the look on his face, he had read it and guessed everything from it.

"It's not for you to allow or disallow," Draco bit off. "It's done. She agreed to it herself."

"You realize that if you do this, I can no longer condone you being Deputy?" Nott asked.

Draco nodded. "I suspected as much."

"It doesn't change anything?" Nott asked.

Draco slowly shook his head. No. Some things were simply worth more.

Nott sighed. "You leave me no choice. I have to speak to Dumbledore. You're looking at expulsion."

Draco's lips thinned and he went a little pale. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to that."

"But it still won't change anything?" Nott asked, sounding as if he already knew the answer.

"No," Draco confirmed.

"Be reasonable, Draco. If you're expelled, you still can't use it."

"Can't I?" Draco asked, his eyes glinting dangerously. "You don't know this magic, Theo. You don't know what it can do."

"So, you're willing to throw away your education to get back at some girl who's annoyed you? Don't you realize how stupid this is?" Nott threw down the parchment and glared at Draco, who was struck dumb by the intensity in the other boy's eyes. He'd never seen this level of emotion from Nott.

"I agreed to it," Hermione quietly said. Draco's eyes shifted to her. She was looking pale and staring at the bracelet around her wrist. He knew she was terrified of what he planned to do to her. "I agreed," she repeated. "And if you turn him in, you'll have to turn me in, too, and we'll… we'll both get expelled." Tears were welling in her eyes.

Nott blinked. "Don't be silly, Granger. This would be your first lapse of judgment; Dumbledore would go easy on you."

Hermione slowly raised her head to look at Nott. "Not my first lapse, no. I used it on Draco a few days ago, _against_ his will. I'm sure he'll tell Dumbledore about that if he's to be expelled for this."

Draco was gaping at Hermione, stunned by her honesty. Didn't she realize that if she played along with Nott, she had a decent chance of getting him kicked out with no repercussions of her own? He somehow knew that she did realize, and that stunned him all the more. He couldn't even gather himself enough to smirk or gloat at Nott; he just stared at his willing Muggleborn slave.

Nott was looking very angry. It was really uncanny. "Do you _want_ to wear the bracelet, Granger?" he asked. "Do you _want_ him to abuse and humiliate you? Because I guarantee you – he will."

Hermione sniffed and swallowed, visibly fighting back the tears. "No, I don't want it," she finally replied in a shaky voice. "And I do wish that I hadn't come here tonight. But I came, because I thought I'd win. It was a fair contest. I have to pay the price."

Draco slowly closed his mouth and scowled. He didn't know how to feel about _her_ defending the bet. Well, if she thought he'd go easier on her for that reason, she had another thing coming!

Nott sneered. "Dumbledore won't expel you, when I tell him about this. Whatever you've done couldn't have been that bad. If it had been, I'm sure Draco would have told me about it – for hours." Draco scowled at his fellow Slytherin's clear intention of saving Granger. What was up with that?

"Maybe not," Hermione conceded. "But I'll lose Head Girl, and the humiliation of that will probably cause me to leave Hogwarts anyway."

Nott shook his head. "You wouldn't. You care too much about your future."

"I care more about my integrity."

"_Why_ are you being so bloody insistent?" Nott fairly shouted. Draco had never heard him raise his voice even once before in the six years he'd known him.

Hermione got to her feet and planted her fists on the table, leaning towards Nott. "Because I have _honor_," she hissed. "I know it's a foreign concept to you lot, and I'm sure Malfoy would long have had the bracelet off by now, but I agreed and I signed a contract_ twice_ and I'm keeping this thing on even if it kills me!"

Nott threw down the parchment. "It's on your own head, then," he growled. "Just don't come crawling to me for help when he finds a way around every single one of these terms." He stalked over to his desk, ignoring the two of them.

She had pacified Theo? _Way to go, Granger!_ That had to be a first.

"And he keeps Deputy, too," Hermione added to Nott's back.

_Bloody Hell, you're pushing your luck now._

Nott whirled around. "_What?_"

"You can't take away his status without explanation. I _don't_ want to have to explain things to Dumbledore."

"I'll say the two of you aren't getting along."

"I'll dispute it," Hermione said without blinking an eye. "And how will you prove that we haven't learned to get along? I'm thinking that I will be spending a lot of time around Malfoy the next thirty days without any actual fighting. You would be proud of us, I'm sure."

Nott sneered and then looked at Draco. "Get out," he spat before turning back to his parchments.

Draco knew that he was the only one being thrown out. It seemed that Theo actually _liked_ Granger, and he knew Draco well enough to be furious just knowing what he now could and would do to her. Theo had, in short, chosen his side.

Draco took a step closer to Hermione, who seemed to have forgotten all about him, looking thoughtfully at Theo. "Smart move," he breathed near her ear, almost making her jump. "I just might go a little easier on you now."

She shot him a haughty glance. "Don't do me any favors, Malfoy."

He smirked. "Careful, Granger, or I just might think you like it rough," he said in a voice too low for Nott to hear. He then yawned and raised his voice to say, "I'd best be going to bed, then. Goodnight, Theo."

Theo didn't reply. Granger, on the other hand, checked the time and gasped. "Oh, no, Ron is probably waiting," she mumbled, gathering up her parchments and quills.

Weasley was waiting for her? At this time? _No interfering with personal relationships_, she had tried to get him to sign Draco grinned. This was just too delicious. "Best be getting used to wearing that bracelet, Granger. I don't think you should be going back to the Gryffindor Tower tonight."

She stared at him blankly. "What?"

"I don't care where you go or whether you sleep… But it won't be at the Gryffindor Tower. Goodnight." He turned around and, whistling a cheery tune, he strolled from the room.

"Is it too soon to say 'I told you so'?" Nott asked in a dry voice without turning around.

Hermione scowled. "It's his prerogative. And he could have ordered worse." She looked to the couch. It would have to do. Ron would be angry with her, but she could just tell him that she'd fallen asleep while working. It wouldn't actually be the first time.

"You can use my bed," Nott said.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What?" she croaked.

Nott smirked slightly and turned his head a little. "Heads have private rooms, remember? And I'm not planning on going back tonight. So, if you want a bed, you can use mine."

Why was he offering his bed after everything that had just transpired? Hermione shook her head. "Thanks," she mumbled. "But… I can't be spending an entire night at the Slytherin male dormitories!" She blushed at the thought alone.

Nott shrugged. "Suit yourself. And be careful what you say when Draco is around. If he heard you say something like that, he would _order_ that you sleep there."

Hermione shook her head again. "The contract says—"

"Nothing sexual about sleeping, Granger," Nott interrupted. "And he might not care if you have to spend your nights on the bathroom floor. Just be careful."

"It also said not to do anything that could get me expelled," she pointed out.

"A few indiscretions would hardly get you expelled," Nott said. "Besides, with both the Head Boy and Deputy Head Boy living in those quarters, it would be easy to come up with a somewhat plausible explanation for nobody to believe. I'll just need this one lamp here; it shouldn't bother you too much if you plan on sleeping on the sofa."

Hermione knew she was being dismissed, and with a sigh she went over to the couch in search for some rest.

* * *

The next day found Draco lounging in the Slytherin common room with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Theo entered through the wall, yawned and then scowled at the other boy. Draco just mutely challenged him to lecture him again. 

"You couldn't have come up with something better?" Theo asked, sitting down across from Draco, all emotion gone from his face.

Draco was confused for a second. "Something better than what?"

"Making her sleep on the couch in the office? You don't think that was just petty?"

Draco's smirk returned. "I didn't tell her where to sleep. I'm surprised you didn't offer her _your_ bed."

"I did," Nott said without a change of expression. "She didn't take it."

Draco did a double take. "You did _what?_"

Theo shrugged. "You didn't answer my question."

Draco scowled at the other Slytherin. He'd have to make sure that Nott couldn't interfere in the future. An evil grin spread across his face. Perhaps it was good that he knew to be careful already. "It might have been petty," he conceded. "But today she's got a sore back, a crick in her neck and a headache from fighting with Weasley all morning. I think that's quite an accomplishment, don't you?"

Theo looked at him strangely. "You saw her already?"

"No, I missed breakfast and even though I can use the ring to summon her, I'm not sure she'd understand the summons. She's smart and all, but I didn't tell her that I could do that."

"Then how do you know?" Theo asked.

Draco looked at him questioningly. "How do I know what?"

"How do you know that she's uncomfortable and that she's been fighting with Weasley?"

"Oh." Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Simple deduction. I'm willing to bet that I'm right, though."

"No thank you," Theo drily said. "I'll take none of your bets."

* * *

Hermione had a sore back, a crick in her neck and a headache from fighting with Ron for the past hour. And she was exhausted. The couch in the Heads' office really wasn't that comfortable, and as soon as she'd had lunch, she had every intention of going to her room for a nap. 

"A word, Granger."

Damn, she hadn't made it to the Great Hall yet. Belatedly, she realized that she hadn't put anything in the contract about not starving her to death. On the other hand, what fun could he have with a dead slave? He chuckled softly and she had the impression that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Well, it _was_ natural for her to have these thoughts.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked.

"I'll be giving you a quick course in what the bracelet does and how to obey me and if you're good…" He leaned in closer. "I might even let you go eat after."

Hermione wanted to make a retort, but at that moment her stomach rumbled, revealing that she hadn't had breakfast. She pressed her lips into a thin line and glared at him.

He grinned. "We'll be getting along just fine," he said. "It's really simple, actually. If I give you a direct order, you will feel compelled to obey. If my intentions are clear to you, you will feel a pull towards doing what I want – do feel free to follow that pull. If I want your presence, you will know the when and where, and you will feel a pull that will grow stronger the longer you ignore it. Do_ not_ ignore it unless you have an excuse involving someone bleeding to death and you being the only one around to save them."

Hermione crossed her arms, scowling at him. "Anything else?"

He smirked, making it somewhat clear to her that there were things she still didn't know. "Not presently, no."

"And were you going to share these extra features with me if I had won?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Why would I?"

"Who would have thought a stupid silver bracelet could be this evil?" she grumbled.

Draco stared at her.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," he insincerely said. "Sometimes I forget how _common_ you are."

She scowled but didn't comment.

"This," he said as if talking to a child, "is a _platinum_ bracelet. Those things are called diamonds. Even without the magic it's worth a good 500 galleons, possibly a little more, seeing as it's quite old by now."

Hermione stared at it. "You're joking!" she exclaimed. "It's just a stupid bracelet; it can't be worth that much!"

"No, it's not worth 500 galleons," he agreed. "With the magic and as a set with the ring, it's probably closer to 5,000 galleons. It might have been more, only, the magic is a little bit archaic for most people's tastes, plus it's highly illegal. So, you see… It's worth more than several of you and I'm quite happy that there's no way for you to lose it without losing your hand first."

He left her to stare at the bracelet around her wrist that might as well have been polished nickel and paste for all she knew.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Blaise has some interesting theories about what Theo and Draco have been up to. "I was just wondering what the two of you were doing out, by yourselves, that has you in such a disgustingly good mood and Theo now sleeping, if I'm not very much mistaken…"**


	13. Chapter 13

**Here's my offering of the day. I hope you like.**

* * *

Hermione was feeling really grateful for her lunch and that annoyed her. Why the Hell was she feeling grateful that the bastard was allowing her to eat? He hadn't even really done anything – except banishing her from her quarters for the night – and already she was having these groveling tendencies? It was day one and she hated this already. Really hated it. Irritably, she picked at her bread, until she realized that there was nothing left but a pile of crumbs on her plate. She stared at it. Great, now she was wasting food too! She threw down the bit of crust she was still holding, ready to strangle someone. 

Something at the Slytherin table drew her eye and she looked up to find Malfoy almost shaking with laughter. She narrowed her eyes. Good that _someone_ was having fun! Her eyes went to Zabini sitting next to him, figuring that he'd be the source of the amusement, but he was just looking perplexed. She looked around the Slytherin table to see that nobody else was interacting with Malfoy – Nott wasn't even there, and Pansy Parkinson was at the other end of the table, talking to Daphne Greengrass, oblivious to her reputed boyfriend's mirth. Hermione looked back at Malfoy to find him smirking back at her.

_He's laughing at me, the prat!_

Her lips twisted into a sneer, which only seemed to amuse him further. Deciding that she was quite full, she got up and left the hall to find her bed. She could nap for a few hours before Harry, Ron and Ginny were done with their Quidditch practice. That was… unless Draco decided that she couldn't nap. She really hated this.

* * *

"What are you laughing at?" Blaise asked Draco as Draco watched Hermione leave out of the corner of his eye. She was so predictable sometimes. 

"Nothing," Draco automatically answered.

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "You know, you came in quite late last night," he said.

"Did I, now?" Draco neutrally asked.

"But I saw Pansy go to bed," Blaise continued.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Nott was also gone last night…"

"What's the matter, Blaise?" Draco taunted. "Feel lonely? Was Tracey gone too?"

Blaise smirked derisively. "I was just wondering what the two of you were doing out, by yourselves, that has you in such a disgustingly good mood and Theo now sleeping, if I'm not very much mistaken…"

Draco put down his fork, staring at his friend. "What are you suggesting, Zabini?" he growled.

Blaise faked sincerity. "Hey, your secret is safe with me…"

Draco snorted. "Get your mind out of the gutter. God." He pushed away his plate, rapidly losing his appetite. Sometimes Blaise's imagination was a little too vivid.

"It would certainly explain your lack of interest in Pansy," Blaise mused. "And why you're aiming so hard to please him…"

"Oh, ha ha!" Draco grumbled.

"Want to give me another theory, then?" Blaise asked.

Draco scowled. "No. Had enough trouble with Theo over this."

Blaise gaped. "You told _Theo_ what's going on and not me?" he sputtered. "Well, I guess that says a lot, doesn't it?"

"I didn't _tell_ him," Draco defended himself. "He just sort of tripped over it and then gave me a hard time."

Blaise didn't respond but merely drank the last of his juice and got up to leave.

"Blaise?" Draco asked.

"See you around, Draco," Blaise said without looking at him and then walked away.

"Bloody Hell," Draco groaned. Snatching an apple from the bowl of fruit, he hurried after Blaise. He'd have to tell him. He didn't want to lose any more friends because of Granger.

* * *

When Hermione awoke later that afternoon, she had this nagging feeling that something was off. Malfoy had left her alone all day on the first day of her enslavement? Not bloody likely. It certainly wouldn't be like him to allow her to rest or to allow her a respite. She stared hard at the bracelet, trying to figure out if she somehow missed the pull of a summons while she was asleep, but she felt absolutely nothing. Of course, he might be busy plotting something truly nefarious and hence have no more time for pettiness. But this was Draco Malfoy – he _always_ had time for pettiness. He might also just be trying to unsettle her, in which case he was succeeding fairly well. She shrugged it off, deciding that he'd probably give her her fair share of trouble over the next month, so there was no use fretting. Only… the nagging feeling that he was up to something wouldn't go away. 

None of her friends were in the common room. Hermione checked her watch; it was four o'clock. They couldn't _still_ be practicing Quidditch, could they? They must be starving by now. She sighed. Well, they weren't here and she wasn't being bullied around by Malfoy at the moment, so she'd better go to the library and get as much studying done as possible, before he remembered that he wanted to interfere with that. Perhaps she could catch her friends later. If she was lucky.

* * *

Draco and Blaise were sitting in their usual place in their common room and Draco was watching Blaise with rapidly thinning patience. 

"So, wait," Blaise said for what must be the hundredth time. "You and Granger made some stupid bet and she actually _let_ you—"

"Use the bracelet on her, yeah," Draco finished the sentence. It wasn't that hard to understand, was it?

"The bracelet I saw?" Blaise asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, I suppose it _is_ pretty," Blaise mumbled.

Draco stared at him. "So, after three hours of me explaining, you deduce that she let me enslave her because the bracelet is _pretty_? Bloody Hell, Blaise…"

"Yes, well, excuse me if I find any other explanation completely inane!" Blaise huffed. "_Granger_ allow _you_ complete control of her for a month? It almost spells Death Wish! She's too smart for that!"

"First of all," Draco sighed, "_that_ explanation isn't inane? She didn't even realize how valuable it was, for Merlin's sake! And, second of all, I told you about the contract she had me sign. I pretty much can't kill her."

"You can kill her good name, her integrity, her friendships, make her lose Head Girl…"

"I can try," Draco mumbled, not bothering to hide the evil glint in his eyes.

"That's exactly what I mean!" Blaise exclaimed. "I bet you're itching to do all of that and she _knows_ this. By the time you're done with her, she'll probably regret not just allowing you to kill her!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "That _is_ how my fantasy plays out, yes, but I have to be careful or Theo will have my head. Besides, Granger is too damn smart. I need to be very specific for my orders to have any effect at all."

"Speaking of… Why aren't you bothering her right now?" Blaise asked.

Draco smirked. "No worries," he said. "I am…"

* * *

It was completely impossible for Hermione to concentrate. She kept glancing at the bracelet, wondering if it was broken or something. She didn't want to be abused, she really didn't, but she knew that Draco would love doing just that. So why wasn't he? She was mostly nervous that she had somehow missed a summons and that he would punish her. She could just imagine the kind of punishments Draco Malfoy would give a_ Mudblood_ that he had complete control over. True, he couldn't be violent, but he could make her go stand in the lake all night if he wished, making her fall deadly ill… She should have made a more specific contract! She had to remember that for the next time she made a dangerous bet like this with someone who _wanted her dead!_ Gods, what had she been thinking, when she agreed to this? 

Someone sat down in front of her. Hermione was almost afraid to check and she gave herself a severe scolding before looking up. When she realized it wasn't _him_, she let out a relieved breath. Then she frowned at herself.

"Interesting reaction," Ginny observed.

Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose. Why couldn't Draco just harass her already? "What do you want?" she sighed, feeling very uncharitable at the moment.

Ginny's brows went up. "I _was_ going to apologize…" she said. "But you aren't really inspiring it."

Hermione's hand dropped and she gave Ginny a weary stare. "I'm not going to grovel for an apology," she said. "And why are you apologizing, anyway?"

Ginny shrugged. "Harry says I've been a bitch. And I guess I have. I just sometimes feel like you and Ron are trying to interfere in something that's none of your business."

If this was Ginny when contrite, Hermione would hate to see her with no regrets. She sighed again. "It's not about us interfering. It's about you realizing that it's not all about the two of _you_."

Ginny slowly nodded. "I guess I can see that," she said. "And I really didn't mean to be a bitch." She shrugged again. "I guess that, with six older brothers, I've just always had to put my foot down pretty strongly?" she suggested, sounding a bit hesitant.

Something in Ginny's tone of voice made Hermione look at her more closely. She was putting on an act, she realized. She wasn't as blasé and uncaring as she would like to seem. Hermione suddenly understood that perhaps she wasn't the only one presenting a front to others.

"Don't worry about it," she softly said. "You just want us to respect your relationship with Harry. I know that Ron might seem a little—"

"I can handle Ron," Ginny coldly interrupted.

Hermione glanced at the other girl, whose face was now stony. "Just remember to respect _his_ relationship with Harry as well," she said, not having much hope that Ginny would really hear her. She sighed and tucked one of her own wayward curls behind her ear.

"Hey, where did you get that bracelet?" Ginny asked, distracted by the new and shiny object. "I haven't seen it before."

"Oh, um, heirloom," Hermione mumbled, not _technically_ lying. She vaguely recollected Malfoy saying something about it being old and such.

"Some heirloom!" Ginny exclaimed, catching Hermione's wrist to get a better look. "This is platinum! And those are most definitely diamonds…"

Hermione yanked her wrist free, feeling a little annoyed at having her shackle admired like this. "How can you _tell?_" she asked. "It looks just like silver!"

"No, it doesn't," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Look." She held up a silver ring to the bracelet, and Hermione noticed the slight difference in the color. The silver was a more dull grey, where the platinum was more whitish.

"That's it?" Hermione asked. "That's the big difference?"

Ginny snorted. "Remind me to only get you iron or nickel, or some other cheap crap, for your birthday. It's all about the _rarity_. This bracelet is almost wasted on you."

Hermione blushed slightly. She'd never cared much for such frivolous things. Perhaps it _would_ be better if she somehow transfigured or charmed it, so she wouldn't draw too much attention.

"It's a bit showy for school, too," Ginny continued.

"Yes, well," Hermione said, stalling, searching for a reply. "Where else would I wear it? It's just for a while, while it's still new…"

"But it's obviously a very expensive piece of—"

"And it's mine!" Hermione interrupted. "And don't tell the boys about it either. I don't want them on my case, too, taking away my fun."

_My fun? Yes, fun, fun, fun, wearing this thing!_

Ginny snorted indelicately. "They wouldn't know an expensive piece of jewelry if it bit them in the—oh, good afternoon, Madam Pince!"

Hermione hid her face in a book, trying not to laugh at Ginny's facial expression as Madam Pince sought her out to shush her.

"Fat load of help you were," Ginny almost growled after the librarian had disappeared.

Hermione shuddered at the thought of the looks Madam Pince could shoot people. "Oh, no," she said. "She already hates me enough as it is."

"She _hates_ you?" Ginny asked, looking stunned. "I'd think she'd love you."

"No, she doesn't," Hermione said with an exaggerated sigh. "See, I actually touch her _books_. A lot."

They both sniggered.

"So, we good?" Ginny asked.

"We're good," Hermione confirmed with a small smile, feeling some of the tension leave her. Maybe all of this was doable after all.

* * *

"What's the matter?" Blaise was asking Draco, who had all of a sudden started frowning for no apparent reason. 

"Hm? Oh, I was just trying to figure out what to do to the Mudblood first," Draco vaguely said. "What do you think?"

"You mean you don't _know?_" Blaise incredulously asked.

Draco scowled. "I have some ideas, but between Quidditch, Deputy Head Boy, Pansy and actual school, I haven't found as much time to think about it as I'd like."

Blaise grinned. "In that order? Oh, don't look at me like that. Yeah, you _are_ sort of busy. It's a pity that you can't actually be around to enjoy most of your handiwork."

A slow smirk spread across Draco's features. "Oh, I'll find a way, I'm sure," he purred.

"I'm sure you will," Blaise replied, leaning back. "Will you be bothering her tonight?"

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, I'm tired. Besides, she's been so busy fretting all day that I didn't even need to do anything."

"How do you know?"

"Hm?"

"You said Granger has been fretting, how do you know? You only saw her around lunch."

"That was enough," Draco replied. "She was fidgeting like mad and avoiding looking at me. It was enormously amusing.

"So you were watching her?" Blaise asked thoughtfully. "And you weren't humiliating her in any of the countless ways available to you?"

Again Draco waved him off. "Only about half the school was there. Much better to do the first time in front of everyone, including her moronic friends, who were also absent today."

Blaise was astounded by just how much thought Draco had given to this. He was right, of course. The first time she was humiliated in front of everyone would be the worst, so waiting until the worst possible moment would escalate the effect. He reminded himself to never truly get on Draco's bad side.

"I suppose the ultimate question is…" Blaise hesitated for a second and Draco's gaze turned questioning. "How many of your current privileges are you willing to sacrifice to get your revenge on this Mudblood?"

"That's easy," Draco replied. "Every single one of them."

* * *

**Don't worry, Draco is just biding his time... :P **

**"So, why did you suddenly decide to tell _everyone_?" Blaise asked.**

** "I didn't, really. I don't trust them to know about the bracelet. I just told them vaguely about the bet and dropped a few hints…"**

**"Hints?" Blaise frowned. "Like, that she _has_ to obey?"**

**Draco's smirk widened. "No, that she _wants_ to…"**


	14. Chapter 14

**I guess I didn't make this clear: Theoretically they can tell anyone they want about the bet and the bracelet, except that would get Draco in trouble, so he demanded that Hermione keep quiet about it. If he chooses to tell people about it, that's his own business. There's nothing preventing him from telling Blaise or anyone else, except his own desire to have as few people know as possible.**

* * *

When Hermione awoke Sunday morning, there still hadn't been any summons for her. She shook the bracelet a bit and mumbled, "You're not out of batteries, are you?" before yawning and getting out of bed. It had been futile to try and transfigure the thing, she'd spent the better part of last night trying to do so. It simply didn't work. The bracelet wanted to keep its form and there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it. There wasn't much she could do about anything these days. She needed to hurry if she wanted breakfast.

When she arrived at the Great Hall, she rushed past the Slytherin table, hoping not to hear anything that might keep her from her food. She didn't hear Malfoy call out to her, but she did hear a sudden silence, followed by a sea of urgent whispers. She stopped dead and turned to see what had caused it, only to find every single pair of Slytherin eyes on her.

Her eyes went wide and she slowly shook her head. What could he possibly have said to them? Some of them were sneering, and a few of the younger ones looked curious, but most were smirking and throwing her very… unpleasant… looks. Nott was the only real exception; he was frowning disapprovingly at his House. He didn't say anything, but when he looked back at her, he just raised an eyebrow as if saying '_This was what you asked for, are you happy yet?_'

Yes, she was absolutely thrilled. She swallowed and let her eyes run over their table a couple of times to seek out Malfoy. He wasn't there. So whatever he'd said to them must have been earlier or the day before. She glanced at the other tables. Nothing was amiss there, so it was only the Slytherins. He couldn't have been careless enough to actually tell them about the bet, could he? That House was notoriously self-serving, so if any one of them could use it as leverage against him, they most likely would.

She shook her head and turned her back on them again, ignoring their voices. This was just another one of Malfoy's underhanded tactics to make her uncomfortable. It wouldn't work. She went over to sit down next to Ron.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

Hermione almost groaned, but reminded herself that Ron might only have noticed because he was looking for her to enter. "I really can't say," she responded.

"Why isn't that Nott fellow stopping them?" Ron persisted. "He's Head Boy, isn't he? Isn't it his _job_ to keep them in line?"

"They aren't doing anything," Hermione mumbled. "He can hardly give detentions because of a few whispers."

"But he could find the root of it and give _them_ detention! They're obviously spreading lies about you over there, otherwise they wouldn't all be so interested."

Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "Why would he care? I appreciate that you're looking out for me, Ron, but not everyone cares about me like you do. Besides, they'll get bored soon enough."

"But if they're spreading _lies_ about you—"

"I don't care what they think. And anyone I care about wouldn't believe any Slytherin lies."

Ron still looked disgruntled. "I bet it's that slimy git, Draco Malfoy."

Hermione almost jumped in her seat. "What?"

"It's always him," Ron continued, not noticing her reaction. "He's never anything but trouble. Why Dumbledore allowed Nott to make him Deputy, I'll never understand."

Hermione opened her mouth to defend Dumbledore's decision, but then snapped it shut again. _Why_ would she want to do that? It wasn't as if she didn't completely agree with Ron. Why search for reason when there was none? Still, she remained loyal to Dumbledore.

"I don't know," she said. "He probably hopes it brings out the good in him."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, because we saw how _good_ he was as Prefect and member of that Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad."

Hermione giggled and Ron looked really pleased with himself.

_Entrance Hall._ It was a sudden feeling, a certainty. She had to go out to the entrance hall. Now.

She abruptly stopped laughing, her eyes widening a little. So _this_ was what it was like.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, concern in his voice. "Are you ok?"

"Um… I… I have to go. I forgot about an assignment. I have to go do it now." She got up.

Ron eyed her suspiciously. "You? Forgot about homework?"

_Now. Entrance Hall, Now._

"See you later," Hermione absent-mindedly mumbled.

The pull was drowning out everything else, so she didn't notice if Ron said anything more. She had to force herself to walk sedately instead of breaking into a run.

"I thought I told you I was done waiting," Draco irritably said when she finally reached him just outside the Great Hall. "You will do better than this next time."

Hermione shot him a withering look. "I had to excuse myself, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," he replied. "You get up and leave. And don't talk back to me."

She ground her teeth together. "What did you tell your House about me?"

Draco smirked. "Don't question me, either. In fact, don't ask me any questions ever."

_You going to ask me to stop breathing too?_

She opened her mouth to ask the question, but she couldn't force the words out. She growled in frustration.

Draco's smirk widened. "I knew this would be fun," he mumbled.

Hermione mutely glared at him.

"It's killing you to not know what's going on with my House, isn't it? Did they stare at you? Say anything? Respond. Tell me what they did."

"Yes," she choked. "They stared and whispered."

"All of them?" he asked, malicious glee in his eyes.

"No, not Nott."

He looked put out. "Well, that can't be helped," he grumbled. "You will stay away from Nott. I don't want him ruining my fun."

Hermione wasn't sure why he'd want to cut her off from Nott, but since she couldn't talk back or question him, she chose her words carefully. "I have to spend time with the Head Boy or there will be questions that you don't want me to answer."

Draco looked thoughtful at that. "You're right, of course. Fine, you can go to your weekly meeting, but for the rest of the time you will avoid him." He smirked. "And, of course, you won't tell him why."

He could almost taste her anger and frustration; it was so tangible. It was so enjoyable. He could also tell that she was confused about his last demand. She had no clue. Draco couldn't be certain himself, of course, since Theo was so hard to read, but he had a clear suspicion that the other Slytherin might be interested in Hermione for more than her brains. He didn't see how or why that could be, but to each his own, he supposed. Having her apparently snub him would soon bring Theo around to a sensible way of thinking again.

He noticed Hermione's mouth working as she tried to form words. The attempt was unsuccessful and she frowned, visibly thinking, trying to get around his demands. He'd bet it was a question. She could never seem to stop asking them. He pretended not to realize and just raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what she could do.

"I am here now," she finally said.

He hid a grin. She wanted to know why he'd summoned her? Well, time for him to demonstrate just who was calling the shots and when.

"So you are," he said. "Good for you!"

Then he went inside the Great Hall for his breakfast.

* * *

By the time night had fallen, Hermione was fuming. Draco wasn't being abusive. He wasn't even really being derisive. As for whether he was demanding, that depended on your point of view. He kept summoning her at the most inopportune moments and usually for no good reason. 

First, he'd summoned her, just to dismiss her again, claiming that she'd taken too long and he didn't need her anymore. She'd been in the tower studying and had _just_ finally gotten a grasp on an essay she was doing, when he had summoned her to go the dungeons. She had immediately left, just to be told it was for _nothing_ and, after that, she couldn't re-focus for the rest of that day.

And that was just what he did before lunch.

He had made her miss lunch by having her seek out Peeves to ask him what his stance was on Ministry Regulations on ectoplasm. Peeves had, predictably, thrown a fit, and now Hermione had to walk the halls very carefully, unless she wanted to be hit by something dirty, smelly or heavy. Once, he managed to hit her with all three at once, having somehow gotten an enormous, still live, trout from the lake.

She had spent the next hour in the bath, trying to get rid of the smell and the feeling of the huge fish thrashing about on top of her. Of course, at the time she had screamed, and there had been an audience. The whole school knew what had happened by sunset and the Slytherins all acted as if she was still stinking up the place.

In the afternoon, Draco had Quidditch practice. It was late October and it was a dark and rainy day. Twice, he'd summoned her out there. The first time to get something from his room (which he then decided he didn't need and had her put back), and the second time to stand by in the drizzle, just in case he wanted something else. She had, of course, not had time to get her cloak.

She was freezing.

She was bored.

She loathed him.

After she had finally been allowed to go in after their practice had ended, she defrosted, and he let her have her dinner, but only just. She had anticipated this, so her table manners had almost been as bad as Ron's in an effort to at least get _some_ nutrition. She knew she was getting strange looks from her friends and others, but she didn't know what to do about it, so she ignored them.

She also tried to ignore Malfoy as much as possible, but he was having entirely too much fun for it to be possible.

He had told her to go to the Slytherin common room and wait for him. Another pointless order. He had taken his time finishing eating, and, for an hour, she had just stood there - the Gryffindor Head Girl trapped waiting in the Slytherin common room Sunday night, while people were staring at her or making snide remarks about her blood. She couldn't respond, because her instructions had been to stand in a corner and speak to no one, so all she had was her glare.

At least day two was almost over, only four weeks to go! … Oh, crap.

* * *

Taking his sweet time eating had never been this pleasant before. Draco smirked at his empty plate. 

"So, why did you suddenly decide to tell _everyone_?" Blaise asked.

"I didn't, really. I don't trust them to know about the bracelet. I just told them vaguely about the bet and dropped a few hints…"

"Hints?" Blaise frowned. "Like, that she _has_ to obey?"

Draco's smirk widened. "No, that she _wants_ to…"

Blaise's eyes bulged. "You lied?"

Draco pursed his lips. "No, I implied. Whatever conclusions people draw are beyond my control."

Blaise shook his head. "Are we going back to the common room any time soon?"

"What's the rush?" Draco asked, lazily stretching.

The other boy rolled his eyes. "You're just out to torture Granger, which is fine, but these benches aren't _that_ comfortable."

Draco pursed his lips. Blaise was right. A soft chair in front of the fire sounded much more pleasant.

"All right," he said. "Let's go."

Seeing Granger in the corner, when they entered their common room, sneering like a caged animal, was definitely worth it. Draco grinned. She pointedly ignored him, her irritation obvious in her stance, the set of her jaw and her eyes. Draco's grin widened. She could remain standing for now.

"You're going to wear her out before the bet is over," Blaise observed as they made their way over to the seating arrangement in front of the fire.

"I thought you thought I was going too easy on her," Draco pointed out, sitting down.

Blaise slowly shook his head. "I was just surprised that you could contain yourself, was all."

Draco glanced sideways at him. "So you think I'm going too hard on her?" He couldn't keep the coldness out of his voice.

Blaise shrugged. "I'm actually not a big fan of enslaving people. But if anybody deserves it, it's her. And she did agree to it herself, didn't she?"

Draco was relieved. For a second, he'd thought Blaise would give him a hard time too. Lately, he'd been having a very rough time hanging on to his friends. It was becoming tiresome. He wasn't like Theo, who didn't seem to care much whether people talked to him or not. Yet… he couldn't give this up. Granger had been a thorn in his side for far too long and she'd easily survive the things he had planned for her.

The object of his malicious thoughts sneezed behind them.

"Looks like you gave your pet a cold," Blaise deadpanned.

Draco rolled his eyes. "So she'll go to the hospital wing in the morning. It'll hardly kill her."

"Except Madam Pomfrey put up a notice that too many seek her out for hardly any reason at all and a common cold can run its course without her potions. She won't treat it."

"So?" Draco asked. "The cold still won't kill her. She'll have the sniffles for a week, is all."

"Unless you keep hauling her outside like that and it turns into pneumonia."

"If she gets bloody pneumonia, then Madam Pomfrey _will_ treat her, won't she?" Draco growled.

"It can get pretty bad if allowed to fester," Blaise calmly continued. "Even potions can't always save people."

"She just _sneezed_, Blaise!" Draco exclaimed.

Blaise just looked at him.

Draco closed his eyes. Merlin help him, but people really were being nuisances these days.

He turned to Hermione. "Go to bed," he growled. "Take care of your bloody cold."

She left and he looked back at Blaise, who was smiling.

"See?" Blaise gloated. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Draco began plotting Blaise's demise.

* * *

**Next chapter: **

**Draco gazed pensively towards the doors to the Great Hall. "Mondays are boring…" he mumbled. "Perhaps we should liven things a bit?"**

**She glanced apprehensively at the doors and then back to him.**

**He smirked.**

**"Yes…" he said. "How's your singing voice?"**


	15. Chapter 15

**A few things I would like to clarify. :)  
**

**1) Draco _is _an ass. Very nicely observed. He'll get even worse. Yes, I'm aware that Hermione won't fall for him if he's too mean. No, that does not make me want to make him less mean. Where would the fun be in that? ;)  
**

**2) Hermione has said herself that she feels honor-bound by their bet. She will not try and wiggle out of it like some whimpering little Slytherin. She will stand her ground. Of course, occasionally, she might have her own interpretations of his orders.**

**3) Dumbledore is alive, yes. That was the very premise of this AU. He was even in the first chapter. ;)  
**

**4) Please don't try to dictate what kind of fic I should be writing. I appreciate that you like other fics I've written, but I like to branch out. **

**On to the story... **

* * *

Hermione awoke in the dead of night and lay staring at the darkness for a minute, before she remembered what had woken her. It had just been a dream. She didn't even really remember it anymore and she had the distinct impression that she wouldn't want to. There had been too much on her mind as she went to sleep.

She couldn't decide what had been worst about the day before: The endless slew of absolutely pointless tasks that were quite possibly designed to do nothing but drive her mad, or the humiliation of having to stand to attention in the Slytherin common room. It had been so demeaning to have to endure their taunts and glares like that. When Malfoy had finally arrived, she had hoped that he'd finally have something, anything, for her that would allow her to go. Instead, he'd just ignored her, talking to Zabini about her as if she wasn't present. It had been lowering… but also rather enlightening, actually.

A shiver went through her and she peeked over at the heater. It hadn't gone out. The room was probably nice and toasty. She just hadn't been able to get properly warm since that _devilspawn_ had forced her outside. She burrowed down under her comforter and reminded herself to thank Zabini for helping her get away from Malfoy, before he actually made her ill.

* * *

"She's_ not_ sick! Now get off my back, you poor excuse for a wizard, before I hex you into oblivion!"

"How do you _know?_" Blaise asked, not heeding the warning.

"I just do, all right?" Draco snarled. "Sheesh, you got a thing for_her_, too?"

They were having a free period that morning, and they hadn't gotten very far away from the classroom, before Blaise had gone on the attack. Draco _had_ noticed that Granger had missed breakfast, but it wasn't as if girls didn't skip meals all the time. There could have been any number of reasons. He was pretty sure that she'd just wanted to sleep in, but Blaise kept trying to make him feel guilty. He was doomed to fail.

"I don't have a _thing_ for _anyone_," Blaise bit off.

Draco rolled his eyes. When would the git stop lying to him about his relationship to Tracey?

"Forget it," Blaise growled. "Just… forget it! You want to be the one who took his petty little revenge too far and hurt the know-it-all Mudblood so badly that the Order refused to shelter his mother anymore? Be. My. Guest!"

Draco shook his head. "They wouldn't."

"And you're willing to bet your mother's life on that, are you?" Blaise asked, his eyes glinting angrily. "Gee, Draco, I always knew you were selfish…" His voice trailed off as he was violently pushed into the wall, Draco holding onto fistfuls of his robe.

"That's quite enough," Draco hissed at his dark Slytherin friend.

"Is it?" Blaise persisted. "Then let's talk about how you've been leading Pansy on instead. Everyone sees it but her. What do you plan to do about _that?_"

"Don't think you know me, Zabini," Draco hissed. "You don't know who I am or what I'm about."

Blaise sneered and with an effort, he pushed Draco away. "Do _you?_" he asked, and then he turned his back on him and left.

* * *

When lunchtime came about, Draco's mood had not improved in the least. Why had his friends decided to champion the worthless Mudblood? He hadn't even _done_ anything to her yet! And the way things were going, he wouldn't really get a chance to, either.

He saw Hermione just outside of the Great Hall, as he was coming down the stairs to the entrance hall himself. He knew she'd seen him, but, nevertheless, she made a dash for it. He compressed his lips and fisted his hands in annoyance.

_All her fault._

He summoned her. He wasn't really aware that he was going to do it, before he had already done it. She appeared before him only a few seconds later, having obviously turned straight around. His lips quirked. He might train her yet. He saw the annoyance and resignation in her eyes, but she stayed quiet.

It only fed his irritation that he wasn't given the chance to tell her to shut up.

"Mondays are boring," he said conversationally. "Don't you agree?"

"No," she replied.

Of course she didn't. He looked her over. "You don't look sick to me. Are you?"

She shook her head.

He snorted. "Of course you aren't. I'm going to rip the ears off that wanker."

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"Ah, the Mudblood disapproves. Look at me not caring."

"I could have been," she stated. "And then you'd be in trouble."

"From who?" he roughly asked. "You won't be telling _anyone_ about this. Ever. If people would just mind their own business, I wouldn't be _coddling_ you like this."

She didn't reply.

Draco gazed pensively towards the doors to the Great Hall. "Mondays are boring…" he mumbled. "Perhaps we should liven things a bit?"

She glanced apprehensively at the doors and then back to him.

He smirked.

"Yes…" he said. "How's your singing voice?"

Her eyes widened in a horrified stare.

* * *

Pleading had been futile, but Hermione had tried it anyway. She'd actually even grabbed a hold of Draco's arm, right there, in the middle of the entrance hall, in an effort to get his attention and to get him to change his mind. It had proven to be the wrong tactics. The smirk had slid from his face and he'd pushed her away with a sneer, telling her never to put her filthy Mudblood hands on him again or she would be truly sorry.

He could be so childish sometimes.

She had realized that there was no way she could change his mind. No way to get around this. No way to save her dignity or self-respect.

He'd told her to go do it right away.

She slowly walked into the Great Hall, hardly registering that he brushed past her, going to his own table. About halfway into the room, she stopped and looked up and down. Nobody was really noticing her. Everyone was eating, talking, laughing… _Everyone._ Over the weekend, people had been a bit lax with when they went to meals, as meal times were longer, but now it was a school day.

Her stomach clenched uncomfortably and she had to swallow.

'_You will go in there and sing the school song. You will sing it loud and clear so everyone can hear you, from start to finish, and you won't rush it. Everyone deserves a chance to enjoy the Head Girl's solo, don't they? If you mess up, you will start over. Once you're done, you won't run away. You will go to your table, sit down, and have lunch, like a good little Gryffindor.'_

She swallowed again. She did not like to be the center of attention like she was about to be. She would much prefer to stand out in the drizzle all day and all night, no matter what illnesses she came down with. Perhaps she should have told him that. Her eyes involuntarily flickered to where he was seated at the Slytherin table. His eyes were on her and he was looking impatient.

Hermione took a deep breath and opened her mouth, only to squeak. She closed her eyes.

_Come on, Hermione. You can do this. Just get it over with. What's the worst that can happen?_

Several images flashed through her head, all involving her losing Head Girl, not being able to take her NEWTs, being ostracized, and growing to be a strange old witch with only cats for company.

_Perspective, Hermione!_

Draco was now frowning and she knew she'd live to regret it if she didn't comply with his demands soon.

_Just do it. Courage. You've faced Death Eaters; surely, you can face students at lunch?_

_But I didn't have to sing to the Death Eaters!_

This time, when she opened her mouth, the first shaky lines of the school song left her lips. Malfoy was grinning maliciously, and she couldn't bear to look at him or anyone she ever had to look in the eye again, so she just stared ahead, her face scarlet and her eyes unseeing.

She heard the room go quiet, still as death, and felt everyone's eyes on her as she proceeded with the song. She tried to remain unfocused, but her traitorous eyes swung to her friends. They were staring at her just like everyone else. Ron had his mouth open and a piece of bread forgotten in one hand, Harry was looking perplexed, and Ginny was frowning thoughtfully.

Hermione's stomach clenched quite painfully again, and her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she was going to be sick.

Even the teachers were staring. Dumbledore himself was even present, his mild gaze never leaving her. Professor McGonagall looked as if she didn't know what to make of her star pupil. Her disapproving stare, more than anything, made Hermione want to go dig a hole to bury herself in. Snape's sneer was no more than what could be expected, and neither was any other reaction from any of the remaining teachers.

A slight movement at the Slytherin table caught her eye. It was Zabini leaning in to whisper something to Malfoy with a grin. Malfoy looked surprised, but pleased, as he replied something. Parkinson was sitting directly across from Malfoy, and she was looking morbidly fascinated. She, too, leaned towards Malfoy to whisper something. He leaned in to hear it, smiled in return, and nodded. She giggled.

_Oh, grand. My humiliation is even scoring him points with his vile girlfriend!_

The song didn't seem to want to end. At least she was able to remember the words – praise Merlin. She didn't know how she would deal with having to start over again. Her face flushed an even deeper scarlet, and her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest, as she imagined what would happen once the song was done. She couldn't do this. Suddenly, she was glad that the song hadn't ended yet. Being stuck in limbo was far better than what lay on the other side. Her voice wavered.

Her eyes fell on Nott, the only one at the Slytherin table who didn't look pleased at her humiliation. He was frowning in the general direction of Malfoy, but then he caught her eye and jerked his head slightly.

Hermione didn't understand. She shook her head almost imperceptively in response.

He did the movement again. Then, when she didn't react, he frowned, placed a finger under his chin and pushed it up.

_Chin up._

Easy for him to say, but noticing that Draco had also become aware of what Nott was up to, and that he was frowning disapprovingly, she decided to follow the advice just to annoy him. To hell with it all. The damage was done; she might as well brazen it out.

Raising her chin – and getting an approving smile from Nott before he focused on his lunch again – Hermione finished the song in a strong and confident voice, before forcing herself to grin and curtsy to the room at large.

There was a silence for a second, as she turned for her table, willing her knees not to give out, and then… then there was a thundering applause and whistling and stomping of feet. Hermione whirled around to see that every table except the Slytherin was participating in this. Even Dumbledore had a benign smile on his face and was clapping.

The look on Malfoy's face was priceless – he looked just as stunned as she felt, and he quickly decided to blame Nott, pinning him with a death glare. Nott smirked at his plate. Zabini looked as if it was the best joke ever, and Parkinson looked fit to be tied.

When Hermione recovered enough, she felt her very own smirk spread across her features, as she curtsied again, before going to take her seat with long, confident strides.

She didn't know what the hell had just happened. All she knew was that she would probably pay for this in the end, but it was worth it.

"Bloody Hell," Ron mumbled as soon as she sat down. His bread was still hanging forgotten in his one hand, while his eyes stared ahead, somewhat unfocused.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Harry announced with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

"Neither did I," Hermione mumbled too low to be heard over the excited chatter and rustling of people resuming their meal.

"Bloody Hell," Ron repeated without making a move to gather his act.

"That was really brave, Hermione," Neville leaned over and said. "I'd never dare! Imagine if everyone just laughed at you!" He shuddered.

"Yeah, me neither," Seamus agreed.

Hermione looked up and blinked as she realized that all the Gryffindors in their year, as well as a few younger ones, had gathered around her.

"What was it like?" Parvati asked. "Wasn't it terrifying?"

"I—" Hermione began, not really sure what to reply, when she was cut off.

"Yeah, why did you do it?" Ginny asked. "I mean, you didn't just walk in and decide on a whim to sing, did you?" Her eyes were fixed on something over Hermione's shoulder, around the place where Malfoy was sitting, if Hermione wasn't much mistaken.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I did," Hermione replied. "After all, Mondays are boring, aren't they?"

There was a rush of awed mutters from everyone who heard her.

"Bloody Hell," Ron said again, now dropping the bread onto his plate.

Hermione smiled. This hadn't been so bad, after all.

* * *

"Zabini, can I talk to you for a second?"

The tall, black boy froze in his stride and half-turned to stare incredulously at the Mudblood, who had approached him in the hall between classes. The _Gryffindor_ Mudblood. This had to be unprecedented.

"I don't have time for the likes of you, Granger," he coldly replied.

She grimaced at him. It was such a juvenile act that he could only raise an eyebrow at her.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she said. "So, there. Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, surreptitiously checking the hallway for other students. He still had an image to maintain.

"No one's going to come by," she informed him. "I figured you didn't want to be seen with me."

He nodded, accepting that she had thought of this. "So, why am I being singled out for the Mudblood Lover of the Year Award?" he asked again.

"For caring about my health," she replied.

His eyes grew shuttered. "You got that wrong, Granger. I do _not_ care about your health." He began walking away from her.

She ignored the hint and followed him. "It doesn't matter why you did it; you made sure that Malfoy didn't end up making me sick. I owe you for that."

He snarled at her. He didn't like having a Mudblood feel indebted to him; it felt dirty. "I didn't do it for you," he said. "I did it for _him_."

He tried walking around her, but she got in his way. "Explain!"

Blaise sneered, but then his eyes fell to the bracelet she was wearing. Maybe it _was_ better if she knew some things.

"It's easy to lose your soul when you hate," he said. "I'm trying to help him keep his."

If the so-called brightest witch of their age couldn't decipher that, it was not his problem. This time, he didn't let her stop him walking away.

* * *

**In the next chapter, Draco has a nefarious scheme to destroy Hermione.**

**"Forget it, Granger," he interrupted. "You think I care what others think of you? You think I care about who you'd hoped would eventually date you? I hope it's someone in Gryffindor, because then they won't look at you twice, once I'm through with you."**

**And no, he's not in violation of the contract.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Note: I'm sorry that I sometimes bother you all with my rants. Really, 99 percent of my readers are wonderful. It's only the ones that seem to feel that they're entitled to make demands that bother me. Don't let my little rants scare you from posting comments or questions.**

**On with it, then... **

* * *

Draco was furious. Nothing was going his way. How was he supposed to be enjoying having control over Granger, when his own _friends_ kept getting in his way? Gods forbid that the precious little thing should get a boo-boo or actually feel uncomfortable! 

He paced his common room and ran his hands through his hair. Ever since the incident at lunch, his House had been giving him a wide berth. It was a pity. He really needed to go off on someone. He would have summoned Granger and let her have it, only, it would probably turn out to her advantage somehow and she would officially be crowned the Princess of Slytherin.

The thought made him gag.

What the _Hell_ was going _on_!?

The wall opened to admit the Head Boy and Draco turned around with a snarl. "_YOU!_" he spat.

Theo stopped up to take in his Deputy. "Ah," was, however, all he said.

"You fancy her, don't you?" Draco accused. "That's why you try and sabotage me at every turn?"

The other boy raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure that didn't come out the way you intended."

Right now, Draco didn't give a damn how it sounded. "What? You think you save her from me and then all of a sudden she'll fancy you back? Get real! Her type doesn't want to be associated with your type any more than you _should_ want to be associated with her!"

Theo went around Draco to sit down. "I'm fascinated by how much thought you've given this," he coolly commented.

"It's not right!" Draco persisted. "It's—it's perverse, is what it is!"

Theo's eyes grew shuttered. "Is that so?" he softly asked.

"You're damn right it is!" Draco resumed his pacing. "You – and Blaise too – why are you doing this to me? She _knew_ what she was getting herself into. If she didn't, then she's bloody stupid and deserves it anyway. And she's _mine_ to do with what I want for a whole month!"

"Again, I think you meant to phrase yourself differently."

"Fuck my phrasing, Nott!" Draco growled. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

"I do. But here's what _you_ should know…" Theo leaned forward in his seat, staring intently at Draco. "You may control her actions for the next month, but you do not control mine. You will never control me." With that, he got up and went to his room, leaving Draco flabbergasted.

* * *

Hermione woke with a start. She sat up and shook her head to clear the webs. Had it been another dream? 

_Draco Malfoy's room. Now._

Oh, sheesh. She turned on a lamp and looked at the time. It was three in the morning.

_Now, go now._

She sighed and cursed spoiled prats as she began pulling on her clothes. She was _not_ going down there in her nightgown, damn it!

She only had time to pull on a pair of trousers and a sweater before the clamoring in her head got so loud and intense that she practically flew out her door. It still took her almost ten minutes to reach the dungeons, however, and she had a stitch in her side and her breath was coming hard by the time she reached the wall that would open into the Slytherin common room. Being Head Girl, she, of course, knew all the passes. She wondered whether Malfoy had even considered this potential obstacle when summoning her. It was hard to tell. He seemed to be looking for any reason to harass her, and having her delayed, by not knowing the pass, would probably give him the excuse he needed. It wasn't as if anybody would be coming or going at this hour, allowing her to slip in.

She caught her breath before blindly moving on, unable to register much of anything except the racket inside her head. She knew where she had to go. She would have known even if Draco hadn't forced her to find it when he was giving her pointless orders on Sunday. It already seemed so long ago and it had only been 36 hours. She sighed.

"You're late," he said, when she finally entered his room, breathing a sigh of relief as her head went silent. He was sitting at his desk, having apparently been doing some homework before she arrived.

"I was asleep," she replied, stating the obvious. She wasn't exactly well-groomed.

"Stand there," he said, pointing to the middle of his room.

It wasn't a very big room by any means. Hermione's was probably twice the size. But it held his bed, a desk, and a dresser comfortably enough, and it afforded him something that most students greatly coveted after a few years of sharing dormitories – privacy. It must have been appointed to him after he got his position as Deputy.

She did as instructed, noticing the coolness of the dungeon floor under her bare feet for the first time since making her mad dash. She hadn't even had time to put on socks.

Draco looked her over with a smirk, noting her unkempt hair and her hastily donned garments. He'd bet she hadn't even thought to bring her wand. His eyes fell to her feet and he froze for a second. She would be the death of him yet.

"You little idiot!" he hissed, shooting out of his chair. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're actually _aiming_ to get Blaise to kill me, aren't you? It won't work, you know. Even he will see your scheme and then he won't care _what_ I do to you!"

Hermione blinked in confusion. _What have I done?_ She couldn't voice the question. Curse him for that. She took a second to rephrase. "To my knowledge, I have done nothing of the sort."

He glared at her. "In that case you're an imbecile. Coming down to the dungeons barefoot, Granger? Do you really think that it will let you off the hook, if you land yourself in the hospital wing?"

She pursed her lips. "Careful, Malfoy, or you might seem like you care."

His eyes darkened and he swore foully, making her eyes widen at the profanity. "Let's get one thing straight, Granger: Blaise and Theo might care what happens to you for their own obscure reasons, but I don't and I never will. As far as I'm concerned, you're worthless and a waste of space. In fact, I would have been a much happier person today, if you had never been born."

That actually stung a bit for reasons she could not fathom, but Hermione was careful not to let it show, just returning his gaze.

His mouth quirked slightly. "Unfortunately, you were, so I have to console myself by trying to make your existence as miserable as I can for as long as I can. Theo and Blaise might make it slightly more challenging, but that's all it is – a challenge."

Hermione swallowed, unable to respond. He had so much hate in him, so much anger. Sure, she didn't like him either, but she would never dream of saying such cold and mean things to him. She supposed that was one thing that made him a Slytherin – his penchant for nastiness.

He studied her for a second, almost as if trying to read her mind. "Now, that being said," he said and got up and went to his dresser, "I still don't want Blaise on my back. So you will immediately stop vying for his sympathy and you will begin wearing bloody socks to the bloody dungeons."

He turned around and threw something at her that she instinctively caught, staring at it.

"Make sure to have them washed before you return them," he said, pulling a disgusted face.

Hermione looked around for a place to sit while putting them on, but Draco had taken the only available chair again and that only left the bed.

"Don't even think about it," he said.

Her eyebrows went up. "Don't worry," she haughtily retorted, having somewhat regained her bearing. "I _really_ wasn't."

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

Left with no other choice, Hermione was forced to adopt an incredibly awkward stance while putting on much too large socks in the stupid Slytherin green. She bet he'd chosen them on purpose _just_ to bother her with the color, because the ones he was wearing himself were black. She would, of course, much have preferred black.

"Are you going to be done with that any time soon?" he asked her irritably after a few seconds.

She straightened and glared at him, well aware that her face was a bit flushed from bending over. "This wouldn't be an issue at all, if you hadn't decided to summon me here at 3 a.m.," she pointedly informed him.

His eyebrows rose at her impertinence. "But that _is_ my prerogative," he replied.

"It doesn't mean you _have_ to abuse it," she countered.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But I really, really want to."

Hermione scowled. There wasn't any good way to respond to that.

"I have come up with another way to get back at you. One that neither Blaise nor Theo will interfere in. Want to hear it?"

"No, not really," she replied.

"Too bad, you're _going_ to hear it." Of course she was. "Starting tomorrow – that is, today – you will come here every afternoon at four p.m. You might want to eat a big lunch, because chances are slim that I will allow you to leave for supper. You won't leave until I tell you to and you will be standing right _there_, doing exactly nothing, unless I tell you otherwise."

Hermione gaped. _Every_ day? "You've got to be joking!" she sputtered. "I can't do that, I have duties and meetings and homework and friends…"

He stared coldly at her. "You will be excused until after your meeting with Nott on Wednesdays or I'll never hear the end of it from him. As for other meetings, I'll let you know."

_And homework?_ "I still have homework," she objected.

He sneered slightly. "You'll have to do that either before or after. I don't care. As long as you're where I want, when I want."

"Right," she grumbled. _All hail King Malfoy._ Somehow, she didn't think that drawing his attention onto how this would affect her social life would help her much. _Think, Hermione, think. _"It won't be fun for you, either, to have to spend every afternoon with me." _Good one._

At this he grinned. "And they say you're smart? First of all, of course it will be fun. You're my personal slave! I don't think I'll ever tire of that. Second of all, nowhere does it state that I have to be here, does it? You just enter and go stand in your little spot. Oh, and don't touch anything, by the way. I can do without you snooping through my things."

He was delighted at the scowl she directed in his direction and even more delighted to _know_ he was getting to her. He knew she wanted to ask questions, but she was still under the influence of his early order not to. He hadn't realized at the time just how much this would end up bothering her. He was very pleased.

"But it's pointless," she finally said. "I _don't_ see your point."

"Really?" he asked. "So you don't realize that the whole school will know where you're off to?"

Hermione blanched. He was right. If she went down to the dungeons every day in broad daylight, it wouldn't take long for people to make assumptions. She slowly shook her head as she took in his look of malevolence. "You don't want them to think that," she all but whispered. "Pansy…"

"Pansy knows what's going on," he said. "And I don't exactly plan on letting anyone think I reciprocate your… sentiments… although I might let them think that I take what's being offered."

She was going to be sick. She was quite certain that she was going to be sick, right here, right now. She crossed her arms as if to protect herself and swayed slightly. If she understood this correctly, he planned on letting people think that she was throwing herself at his feet. And she was powerless to stop him from doing so.

_Oh, God, Ron…_

She wasn't exactly dating Ron, of course, but she had always assumed… If he found out about this and she didn't refute it, he wasn't likely to wait around for her. She fought back her tears. Perhaps Malfoy didn't know just how badly he would hurt her. He couldn't be _that_ mean… could he?

"You won't tell anyone, of course," he said in a voice that seemed to come from far, far away. "You won't even _hint_ to anyone that it might be wrong. No one. Not even to Theo, if he should ask you about it."

Why would Nott ask her about it? It didn't matter.

"Malfoy, please…" she whispered.

"Forget it, Granger," he interrupted. "You think I care what others think of you? You think I care about who you'd hoped would eventually date you? I hope it's someone in Gryffindor, because then they won't look at you twice once I'm through with you."

Her eyes snapped up to look into his. He really didn't care. He really wanted to break her, to destroy her. Merlin, what had she gotten herself into?

"You're dismissed," he said. "See you in twelve hours." He turned back to his studies.

He heard the door quietly close behind the Mudblood. There, it was done. He rubbed his neck, feeling weary beyond belief. Damn this insomnia he had sometimes. He knew from experience that when he felt like this, trying to sleep was futile.

Summoning Granger had been just another way of passing time, another way to bother her. It surprised him a little how easy she was to get to, but that only made this whole task easier, didn't it? It was funny, he was all for bothering Gryffindors on principle, but she was the first person he'd truly wanted to suffer. Of course, he really did owe her.

He was used to the bias against Slytherins in favor of Gryffindors. He was even used to Potter managing to make him look like a fool time and again. But the way she looked down her nose at him and acted like it was ok to treat _him_ as less than a human being… No, she would pay for that. She would especially pay for prying his secrets from him when testing the bracelet. He would never forgive that and no punishment was great enough. He really did hope she had something to lose.

Hermione stormed up several flights of stairs before she had to stop and catch her breath. Her vision was blurry and she wiped angrily at her eyes. No, she wouldn't cry. She couldn't. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. If he thought that it took so little to break her, he was wrong. And if he thought it took so little to deter Ron from pursuing her… well, she hoped he was wrong. If he wasn't, it simply wasn't meant to be, was it? Slowly she made her way the rest of the way to her dormitory and, for once, she didn't care where she threw her clothes – especially the socks that seemed to be mocking her – before she went to bed, praying for unconsciousness.

* * *

**Next chapter: **

**The movement revealed the bracelet to Pansy, who gasped and, breaking Draco's hold, took a few steps forward to grab Hermione's wrist. The books all fell to the floor with a large clatter and Hermione winced. It was Pansy's fault, of course, but she wouldn't be the one to pay for it.**

**Still holding Hermione's wrist, Pansy turned to face a suddenly serious looking Draco.**

**"You lied to me!" she whispered, making Hermione aware of the sudden tension.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for all your lovely feedback. We fan fiction writers would be nothing without our reviewers.**

**I'm so tired. I really shouldn't be doing this in the middle of the night, heeh. **

* * *

Attempting to avoid Draco was unequivocally Hermione's favorite new pastime, she decided. It could be no more than an attempt, however, since he lamentably could summon her at will. Yet, for most of Tuesday, she managed to _not_ lay eyes on him and that had to count as some sort of a victory. Instead, she almost desperately latched on to her friends, hoping to get as much quality time with them as possible, before Draco began wreaking havoc. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that they'd forgive her once she got the bracelet off and explained matters to them – which no power on earth could stop her from doing – but until then, it could be a lonely few weeks if the evil git managed to drive a wedge between them. 

She refused to think about what would happen to the fragile romantic interest that Ron had in her. If he was the one, then it would all work out. At least that was what she tried to tell herself.

Time was, however, a cruel mistress, and no matter how much Hermione fought it, it was soon time for her to go to the dungeons. To say that she didn't want to would be an understatement. She soon realized that she'd do just about anything barring jumping from the Astronomy Tower – because that really would be messy – to avoid it.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much she _could_ do, and at three thirty p.m. she went on her way.

She wasn't even allowed the respite of the walk down. On the fifth floor, she made a brief stop to return a book to the library and that was long enough for _him_ to see her. She should really campaign for separate House Libraries.

"Ahh, Granger," he cheerfully said, as if he hadn't threatened to destroy her world just hours ago. "Going down, I presume?"

She gave a terse nod.

"Good, good," he mumbled. "Here, you can carry these for me." He piled a stack of very hefty volumes on her.

Hermione groaned at the thought of carrying all this extra weight six floors down. Well, at least it wasn't six floors _up_.

Draco now had his hands free and he folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't pretend you don't like it, Granger. This is your normal state, if I'm not much mistaken."

She scowled at him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

"Well, don't just stand here," he said, when it became apparent that she wasn't going to respond. "Move! Oh, and _don't_ drop any of them, Madam Pince gets so disagreeable, when you dent her precious books."

Hermione indulged in some very graphic, violent fantasies.

He made her follow him all the way down, walking at a sedate pace. She wasn't sure whether it was to prolong her discomfort with the books or to prolong her discomfort with the stares from the occasional student they came across. It was probably both.

Finally, they reached the Slytherin common room and Hermione thought that now she was home free. Just a few more steps and she would be relieved of her burden.

No such luck.

As soon as they were inside, Draco's eyes fell on his girlfriend, who was holding court in a corner of the room. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before turning to Hermione.

"Wait here," he said, leaving her to concentrate on not allowing her arms to give out, while he went to talk to the girl, who, in Hermione's opinion, was the biggest bitch at Hogwarts.

Merlin, how she hated both of them.

Having nothing else to do, except _not_ dropping the books, Hermione watched as Draco went up behind Pansy and bent to kiss her on the cheek, earning him a dazzling smile. She wanted to puke. Draco glanced back at her, and she made an effort to quickly remove her look of disgust, but got the distinct feeling that she had failed. Oh, bother. He wasn't exactly the forgiving kind. He whispered something in Pansy's ear and her head whipped around to pin Hermione with a stare, before she got up from her chair and walked towards her. Oh, _bother_.

Malfoy was, of course, grinning.

"I don't understand, though," Hermione heard Pansy say as she drew nearer, "why she's doing this. Couldn't she just renege?"

_She doesn't know?_ Draco shot Hermione a warning glance as her mouth fell open.

"She's a Gryffindor _and_ a Mudblood," he mumbled, sliding his arms around Pansy from behind. "Who knows what goes on inside their heads?"

"True," Pansy said, looking thoughtful. "Still, are you sure that those rumors you're spreading aren't truth?"

Hermione snorted and Draco chuckled. "Does she look love struck to you, love?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes and examined Hermione carefully. Hermione tried her best to return the look, but her arms really were starting to give out now. "I guess not…" Pansy mumbled after a moment. "And it would really only make it more fun if she were. I mean, imagine a Mudblood panting after a Malfoy."

This time, Draco outright laughed. Hermione didn't appreciate the humor, so she just glared at both of them, trying to readjust the books that were threatening to slip from her hands.

The movement revealed the bracelet to Pansy, who gasped and, breaking Draco's hold, took a few steps forward to grab Hermione's wrist. The books all fell to the floor with a large clatter and Hermione winced. It was Pansy's fault, of course, but she wouldn't be the one to pay for it.

Still holding Hermione's wrist, Pansy turned to face a suddenly serious looking Draco.

"You lied to me!" she whispered, making Hermione aware of the sudden tension.

"Not exactly…" Draco ventured, looking very uncomfortable.

"You gave her _this?_" Pansy screeched. "_HER?_" She let go of Hermione's wrist as if burned.

"I didn't gi—"

"Take it off her!"

_Wait… what?_ Pansy was championing her? That made no sense. Pansy should be thrilled that she was enslaved like this.

Draco adopted a stubborn stance, his eyes growing cold. "No!"

"So, that's it then?" Pansy railed. "You care more about some Mudblood than me? Your _girlfriend_ of the past four years?"

Draco winced slightly, which Hermione found peculiar. She also noticed that the common room was suddenly deserted.

"I don't bloody _care_ about her," he growled. "If you took a moment to calm down and think, you'd _know_ that!"

"Then why won't you take it off her?" Pansy asked, choking on tears.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. "It's my only guarantee that she'll do what I say. It's only for a month."

"She's wearing it for a month?" Pansy whispered, the tears now openly sliding down her cheeks.

"Pansy…" Draco began.

"When were you planning on telling me?" Pansy asked, her voice regaining some of its strength.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, looking thoroughly harassed. "I didn't actually think you'd know what it was."

"So that makes it ok!? You never planned on telling me, did you?"

The guilty look on Draco's face seemed to be answer enough.

Pansy brushed at her tears. "That's… that's just… I never actually believed that any of what they said about you was true," she quietly said. "But it seems I don't really know you that well, do I?"

Draco looked as if someone had punched him. "Come on, Pans, that's not fair!"

"And_ this_ is?" She gesticulated towards Hermione and Draco's eyes shifted and widened slightly. He seemed to have forgotten that she was standing right there.

"Go to my room. _NOW!_" he snarled, and Hermione fled.

* * *

Draco's head ached and he felt rotten. Pansy had been alternating between yelling and crying, sometimes doing both at once, until she'd finally stormed off to her dormitory. He didn't feel like going to his room and having to look at the cause of the fight right now, so he was sitting in the common room, staring at the fire. The Mudblood had heard too much. He really hated the way she always seemed to be privy to his _personal_ matters, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out just how much she'd learned and what she could deduce from that. Fortunately, her confusion was too apparent for her to actually know anything pertinent. 

He'd known that Pansy would be upset if she knew about the bracelet, but he hadn't thought that she'd actually already know about it and _recognize_ it. He should have figured. She had probably known everything there was to know about the Malfoys since she laid her eyes on him back in third year.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye but ignored it.

"I heard you and Pansy had a fight," Blaise conversationally said.

Draco groaned. "Not now, Blaise, please!"

"I wasn't going to," Blaise quietly said.

Draco glanced at his friend. No, not even Blaise was that tactless. "She recognized the bracelet," he said, not feeling the need to clarify.

Blaise simply nodded. "I thought it looked a bit fancy for an enslaving device," he said. "How did she take it?"

"How do you _think_ she took it?" Draco exploded, but then almost immediately held up a hand to prevent Blaise from responding. "I'm sorry, I… Not very well. But I didn't think she'd _know,_ and it's only temporary, you know?"

"And, I take it that you're not going to stop, even for this?"

Draco didn't reply but merely shot him a dark look.

"All right, all right," Blaise said, holding up his hands in surrender. "You know I had to ask."

"It's just for a month," Draco muttered. "Why can't Pansy see that?"

"I don't think it makes a lot of difference for how long it is… Imagine telling her that you're sleeping with another girl – Granger, no less – but it's just for a month."

Draco's head jerked to the side to pin Blaise with a glare. "It is _not_ like that _at all!_"

"Maybe not to you, but I'm betting that's how it feels to Pansy."

Draco rubbed his eyes wearily. The lack of sleep was beginning to get to him. "I'm going to bed," he mumbled, getting up from his seat.

"It's just barely six o'clock!"

"Yes, well, that's plenty of time for the day to get worse, isn't it? I prefer to be asleep."

"But what about your girlfriend?" Blaise insisted. "Don't you need to patch things up?"

Draco shook his head. He was feeling exhausted beyond belief. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, but I won't change my mind."

"You know, there are more important things than getting even…"

"What do you want me to respond to that, Blaise?" Draco asked. "That Pansy isn't one of them?"

Blaise's lips tightened in a frown. "It's fair enough if she isn't, Draco, but why the Hell do you keep stringing her along if that's the case?"

Draco shrugged. "It seems that she wants me to, doesn't it? And if she'd just get over that I'm using the bracelet to control Granger for a bit, there really wouldn't be a problem."

Blaise looked away. "I like Pansy," he softly said. "As a friend. I don't like the way you're treating her."

If only he knew… but Draco wasn't about to enlighten him. "I like Pansy too," he said.

"As a friend?" Blaise quietly asked. _Or something more?_

Draco didn't respond to that but went to his room instead.

* * *

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the empty chair. It was really petty of him to have her just stand around like this for hours. Her thighs and the back of her calves had begun to ache after the first half-hour, and now her back was objecting as well. She stretched in an effort to soothe the pains, but it didn't help much. She might have been able to endure the discomfort better if she hadn't been so bloody bored. Even just looking at other people, when she'd been standing in the Slytherin common room the other day, had been more interesting. 

Her initial glee that Malfoy and Parkinson were having a fight had long since ebbed. After all, it was hard to be gleeful about someone else being as obviously hurt as Parkinson had been. Hermione didn't really understand the reason, though. It had something to do with the bracelet and something that Malfoy had obviously neglected to tell her. It _was_ really fancy and all that, to be sure. He'd even made a point out of telling her that. But could that really be the reason in itself? That he had used a fancy bracelet to enslave her? No, it didn't seem likely; something was missing and she was reluctant to make guesses.

The door finally opened to admit Malfoy and Hermione snapped to attention, wondering what he was going to do. From the look of him earlier, he was blaming the whole incident on her, and he would be about to punish her severely.

Hermione would never admit to being scared, but she was definitely feeling nervous.

When his eyes fell on her, they didn't look malicious, though. They just looked tired.

"Oh, you," he said with a sigh. "Great."

Hermione's eyebrows went up. This was how he greeted her after having ordered her to wait here for him?

"The bracelet," she said. "There's something you haven't told me."

One side of his mouth quirked a little in amusement. "There are a lot of things I haven't told you."

"Tell me!" she demanded, knowing she was being foolhardy at best.

"No," he mumbled with a yawn. "I don't think I will."

"Perhaps Pansy will tell me, then," she said.

This got a reaction out of him. He whipped to attention and sneered. "You'll leave Pansy alone, you cold-hearted bitch. Don't you think you upset her enough, already?"

Hermione met his glare head-on. "_I_ didn't upset her," she said. "You did."

His eyes darkened and she took an involuntary step backwards.

"You listen to me carefully, Granger," he hissed. "You don't want to make me mad. You won't _like_ me when I'm mad. So from now on, you will avoid all mention of Pansy and you will do everything to stay out of her way. If I hear that you upset her in any way, I will do everything in my considerable power to make you wish that you were never born. Am I making myself clear?"

Hermione slowly nodded. His words had quite the opposite effect of what was intended, though. They didn't scare her. They almost made her feel… compassion. She had never known that Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson actually _cared_ about each other as normal human beings. Somehow, she felt reassured in that knowledge.

"Get out!" he growled. "Get your repulsive Mudblood arse out of my room!"

All Hermione's sympathy died. He didn't deserve it. As she left, she fervently hoped that Pansy would dump him and give him a taste of a little thing called hurt.

* * *

**Let's play "Who says?"... and no, I won't tell you... **

**"You don't give yourself enough credit. You are clever and brave and loyal, you have integrity and a kind heart, and you're pretty. You're just not accustomed to allowing people to see the real you and allowing them to like you. Rejection is so much easier to handle when there never was a chance of acceptance, isn't it?"**

**Hermione gaped at him. Did all those compliments just come from him? **_**Him?**_


	18. Chapter 18

**It amuses me when people comment on the length of each chapter. Let me clarify the length issue seeing as quite a few seem to find the topic fascinating - some chapters might seem shorter or longer, depending on the action, but they are almost EXACTLY the same length. I aim for 2500 words (as MS Word counts them) pr chapter and I never go below 2300 or above 2700. So, you see, that is _the_ length.**

**As for whether I can make the chapters longer: Sure, I could. And then you would get less frequent updates. I'm not a machine, you know. This speed is already a strain and soon I might need to slow down a bit.**

**Now, I decided to update a few hours early because of my exceptionally good mood. Someone made a Silencio Trailer and I love it! There's a link to it from my profile, so check it out and remember to rate and comment to the maker if you watch it. After all, feedback from the viewers is her only payment!**

**Right, getting on with it... **

* * *

Draco lay staring at the darkness. He was completely exhausted, but he couldn't sleep; there was too much going through his head. Anger… frustration… hurt!? All sorts of emotions that didn't all belong to him became one huge jumble that he had problems sorting out and keeping separated in this weakened state brought on by exhaustion. Mixed in with that, were his own images of what had happened today, especially with Pansy. He had always tried his best not to hurt Pansy, but no matter what he did, he always seemed to fail at it. He was very fond of her, he really was. He just couldn't… he couldn't… 

He couldn't be what she wanted him to be.

Clenching his jaw, he tried to empty his mind of all the clamoring thoughts, so he could get some rest.

This was doomed to be a very long night.

* * *

"You're late," Nott coolly said. 

Hermione didn't need the reminder. "I know," she mumbled.

Nott looked up to find Hermione still in her school robes, grimacing as she picked grass and dirt off of it.

He sighed. "Do I even want to know?"

Hermione shrugged. "Malfoy and Parkinson fought yesterday. Today, Malfoy wanted to make it up to her, so he asked some people what might do the trick. They generally said flowers and, so, I was sent to find some."

"And did you?" he asked.

"That was four hours ago and I am late for our meeting," she grumbled. "But, yes, otherwise I would probably have missed the meeting entirely."

Nott sighed again. "I'll talk to him," he said.

Hermione's head whipped up. "No, please don't," she almost pleaded. "He gets so angry…"

He frowned. "Am I to believe that you're actually _afraid_ of him, Granger?"

"I don't think he really _scares_ me, no," she mused. "But currently my life is much more pleasant when he isn't angry, so I'm going to try not to make him."

Nott shook his head. "Wrong way to go about it, you're letting him win."

She scowled at him. "Yeah? But you're not the one who has to stand in his room for hours and take his abuse!"

His eyes glinted dangerously. "He's abusing you? How?"

Hermione blinked. "You saw the contract," she said. "So just verbally, of course. Although standing still in one place for hours isn't exactly comfortable."

He seemed to relax a bit. "Yet, he let you come here. Unless, of course, he planned to make you miss it by sending you to… pick flowers?" He shook his head at that notion.

She grinned. She had actually been a little amused herself before she became exasperated at her task. Now that it was done, she could sort of see the humor again.

"You didn't expect _him_ to do it, did you?" she asked with an indelicate snort. "That will be the day, when Draco Malfoy is down on his hands and knees, searching for flowers for his girlfriend."

Nott's lip quirked into a crooked smile. "I shall see you give up reading first," he softly said. "Which is a pity. Some crawling in the dirt might actually do Draco some good."

Hermione giggled and for a moment she thought she saw warmth in Nott's eyes, but it was quickly hidden behind his usual blank mask.

"Thank you," she softly said.

"For what?"

She smiled ruefully. "For helping me out when he made me sing the school song. I wasn't handling that very well."

"Oh. No, you weren't."

Hermione rolled her eyes slightly and went to her desk to see what tasks lay ahead.

"But you acquitted yourself admirably afterwards."

She looked over at Nott, who was again focused on the parchments lying in front of him.

She faintly smiled. "Thank you."

"I just don't… I can't see why you allow him to do this to you," he muttered.

"I lost the—"

"I know that you lost the bloody bet!" he growled in an uncharacteristic loss of temper. "And it's admirable, how you want to keep your word, it really is. But you don't understand. He can destroy you _and_ himself in the process, no matter what your silly little contract says!"

"Oh…" Hermione said, feeling a bit disappointed. She had thought that she had an actual ally in Nott, but he was helping her for the same reasons as Zabini. "You're doing this for his sake, too."

Nott looked up. "Of course it's for his sake, too. He is a friend, after all."

She nodded. "Of course."

Suddenly, she felt very alone.

Hermione blindly stared down at her desk. She heard him put down his quill and lean back to get a better look at her, but she was unable to look up. She was still dealing with her newfound loneliness. Of course, she still had her friends and they were much closer to her than Nott had ever been, but they didn't _know_ about what was going on, and she couldn't tell them. Everyone, who knew, was in Draco's camp.

"I'm sure that whatever you're thinking is quite fascinating," he calmly said, "but equally wrong."

Hermione shrugged.

"What is it, then?" he gently prodded.

She chose not to answer directly. It was quite silly, after all. "Malfoy doesn't even realize how lucky he is to have friends like you and Zabini, does he?" she asked.

"Probably not," Nott replied. "He has exhibited very little patience with us lately. But I don't see the connection between this and your present change of mood."

She played a bit with one of the quills that she kept on her desk. "It's nothing, really. I'm just amazed at how much you do for him."

"You are offended that it's not all about you?"

Well, when he put it like that, it sounded horrible.

"Of course not," she mumbled. She just wished that it was a little bit about her. "Just forget about it. Were there any pressing issues this week?"

"Nothing more pressing than getting to the bottom of this," he persisted, getting up and walking over to lean against her desk. He wasn't letting this go.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, making him raise an eyebrow at her. "It's not that important!" she said. "I mean, I should have known, when Zabini told me that he was doing this all for Malfoy's sake that it was the same with you. I just hadn't considered that _my_ friends don't know and so…" She dropped the quill and sighed.

"You feel alone," Nott concluded. "But you misunderstood."

She looked at him skeptically. "What's to misunderstand?" she asked.

"I am also interfering for your sake. Mostly for your sake. He's the one who might do harm and you are relatively innocent and helpless."

At this, she had to smile a little. "Relatively?"

"You have to admit, you got yourself into this. And you refuse to let me help you out."

"I don't even understand why you bother." She sighed. "Most people wouldn't care. Apparently, something is wrong with me."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. You are clever and brave and loyal, you have integrity and a kind heart, and you're pretty. You're just not accustomed to allowing people to see the real you and allowing them to like you. Rejection is so much easier to handle when there never was a chance of acceptance, isn't it?"

Hermione gaped at him. Did all those compliments just come from him? _Him?_

_He thinks I'm pretty?_

She was reeling from the praise and didn't know how to properly respond. She also felt a bit silly for mostly noting that he'd said she was _pretty_. Wasn't she supposed to prefer to be called clever and brave and all that?

_But nobody ever calls me pretty…_

What was wrong with her? She wasn't some silly girl, who relied on how pleasing others found her appearance. In fact, she almost prided herself of not spending too much time on her looks unless she had good reason to. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"What is it?" Nott asked. "You don't believe me?"

Hermione swallowed. "No, it's not that. I—" The door opened, effectively cutting her off.

Draco took in the scene and decided that he had arrived not a moment too soon. Hermione was flushed, and feeling much too pleased for his liking, and Theo wasn't exactly looking distant.

"Oh, come on!" he couldn't help but exclaim at the general scene before him.

It was disgusting. He should have known better than to allow this.

"Why are you interrupting our meeting?" Theo coldly asked, apparently less than pleased by Draco interrupting.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm still Deputy, aren't I?"

Theo's lips tightened slightly. "So is Padma Patil, but she doesn't intrude every chance she gets. In fact, she's probably off doing her _duties_."

Draco leaned against the wall. "Well, my position is slightly different, don't you think?"

Theo pushed away from the desk. "Only insofar that you're about to lose it."

Hermione shot out of her chair as Draco snarled and took a step forward. "There's really no need for that," she hurried to interject. "Please, Nott…"

Draco's stomach churned as he saw Theo's gaze flicker as he hesitated. This just couldn't be happening. Theo was supposed to be the _sane_ one.

"The meeting is over," Draco said without taking his eyes off the other Slytherin. "Granger, leave." As she hurried past him to obey, he grabbed her arm, making her stop and look at him quizzically. "Go to my room," he said, still watching Theo for reactions. Granger nodded, but Theo had managed to hide all emotions again. He let her go.

"What are you hoping to achieve?" Theo asked, once they were alone.

"That depends," Draco replied. "What are you referring to in particular?"

Theo went over to his own desk and sat down with his back turned to Draco. "I am of course referring to how you're interfering in my relationship with Granger."

"There's a _relationship?_" Draco exclaimed, taking a few steps towards Theo, quite forgetting himself.

"You should look up the meaning of relationship," Theo informed him. "It has more than the one definition."

"Oh, good, so you're not… Well, that's a relief," Draco mumbled, running a hand through his hair and once again wishing he'd gotten more sleep.

"Why is that a relief?" Theo asked. "Why is it any of your business?"

"Because I don't want to see you with the likes of her!"

There was a brief silence as Theo stiffened and turned around. "The _likes_ of _her?_ You mean because of her inferior blood?"

"Well, yeah, obviously there is that, but also… she's _Granger_. She's so incredibly annoying and we hate her and Potter, remember?"

Theo studied Draco for a moment. "I'm sure you mean well," he quietly said, "but perhaps those reasons simply aren't good enough for me anymore."

"What do you mean not _good_ enough? What else is there?" Draco was feeling a bit confused.

"Exactly," Theo said. "If you strip away these shallow reasons not to like her, there's nothing left. So I choose to like her."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "_Fine,_ you reject everything we've been brought up to believe in, but do you have to… _like_ her?" He grimaced as he said the word 'like', not liking the meaning he was putting into it here. This was _Granger_ they were talking about, after all.

Theo's lips twitched. "What an incredibly mature conversation this is. Yes, I _do_ have to _like_ her, as you put it, because I can't seem to stop."

"I don't understand," Draco moaned, sitting down and burying his face in his arms. "It makes no sense. None of it does! And can't you just wait a few weeks to… _like…_ her? I'm not giving this bet up, you know. I can't."

"I know you won't let go of this bet," Theo softly said, not dignifying Draco's question with an answer. "You'll be going through with it, even if it destroys you."

There was a silence as neither of the boys knew what to say.

"Want to know why I've rejected the pureblood ideals?" Theo finally asked.

"Will you preach?" Draco countered.

Theo's lip quirked. "I'll try not to."

"Fine then," Draco mumbled, feeling more curious than he'd admit to.

"My father is old, as you know," Theo hesitantly began. "He was already 54 years old when I was born. This year he turned 71. And even though I'm quite certain that aging parents are not exclusive to pureblood families, I'm fairly certain that only purebloods would take on this kind of breeding scheme that my father did."

"Not true," Draco mumbled. "People need heirs for all kinds of reasons."

Theo gave a strained smile. "Perhaps," he conceded. "But my father never planned on having any heirs until You-Know-Who told him to."

Draco raised his eyebrows, but didn't interrupt.

"So, anyway, he married a dutiful pureblood witch, had me, and then, a couple of years later, she died. At this time, You-Know-Who was considered dead, so my father wasn't really interested in remarrying and breeding more pureblood sons and daughters like a good little Death Eater, so, instead, it was just me and him." He paused briefly. "You wouldn't know what it's like growing up with a cold-hearted old man as your only company, because your parents are young and even if Lucius could probably sometimes be… stern… you had a mother and they both care about you."

"My heart bleeds for you," Draco drily said. "But what has this got to do with anything?"

"I didn't really know that I was only born on You-Know-Who's orders," Theo quietly said, "until he rose again and my father told me. My father wanted me to take a path similar to the one forced on you, and it opened my eyes. I told him no, and I haven't seen him since."

"You told him no? That's more than I did."

Theo's eyes grew cold. "I had nothing to lose. No family I cared about. I have been investing my allowance, building myself a safety net, since I was thirteen. I had an idea that one day I might have to run."

"Why?"

"Because I still don't know how my mother died. I have done everything in my power except desecrating her grave to find out, but somehow, all records are gone."

Draco blinked. "Don't be absurd, you can't possibly think that your own _father_…"

"I just know that he had no desire to have any more children and then she mysteriously died. I wasn't going to be expendable and stay in his household."

"I never knew any of this," Draco muttered. "I thought we were friends."

Theo gazed pensively at a spot beyond Draco's shoulder. "Nobody else knows. But if this is what pureblood ideals do to men, women and children… I will have no part in it. Please respect that."

Draco reluctantly nodded, wondering what he was to do about Granger now.

* * *

**Next chapter: **

**Draco got to his feet and walked closer to her, still studying her, even going as far as slightly squinting his eyes. She didn't like it. She really, really didn't like it.**

**"No, I still don't get it," she heard him mumble, before he said, "All right, Granger, your holiday is over – get down on your knees."**

**Hermione's eyes bulged. _What?_**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey, dearies. I wasn't being harassed about chapter length at all. Was just responding to some general queries instead of having to type it out another 3,000 times ;)**

_**There was a little girl**_

_**Who had a little curl**_

_**Right in the middle of her forehead**_

_**When she was good**_

_**She was very, very good**_

_**But when she was bad, she was horrid! **_

* * *

Hermione was standing in the same spot as usual, fidgeting. It was funny how used she was already getting to this. Funny and frightening. This was only her fifth day of wearing the bracelet, and it seemed so long ago that she didn't wear it. She was anxiously waiting for Malfoy to come back to his room, which really was a new turn of events. She usually preferred it when he wasn't around. It was just… the way he and Nott had looked as she left the office; it was killing her to not know what had happened. 

It had been much too long, but perhaps he hadn't spent all that time with Nott. He'd probably gone to dinner, the git. She had missed lunch because of one of his whims and now she had missed dinner too. She just knew that he would torment her about her rumbling stomach when he finally got here.

When the door finally opened, Hermione almost jumped, but she didn't dare say anything as Draco dumped a bag on his desk and sat down in his chair to stare at her. She didn't like it one bit, it made it obvious that Nott had said something and that he was now trying to make it fit. If Nott had said anything nice, he wouldn't be able to make it fit and he'd probably lose his temper. Hermione swallowed.

Draco got to his feet and walked closer to her, still studying her, even going as far as slightly squinting his eyes. She didn't like it. She really, really didn't like it.

"No, I still don't get it," she heard him mumble, before he said, "All right, Granger, your holiday is over – get down on your knees."

Hermione's eyes bulged. _What?_

"You heard me," he harshly said before she could say anything. "Obey!"

She immediately fell to her knees, shrinking back a little as he was standing much too close for this position to be comfortable in any way.

"No," he said. She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Don't fall back on your thighs. I want you to rest on your _knees_. There we go…"

Hermione did as instructed and glared up at him. He merely raised an eyebrow at her, before turning his back on her to go back to take his seat.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, reaching into the bag. "Theo made me almost miss dinner. I was lucky to get these things before the tables were cleared." He fished out an apple, and Hermione congratulated herself on being right earlier.

He bit into the fruit, slowly savoring the juices, and Hermione looked away, willing her stomach not to growl. Being starved and on her knees while being forced to watch Malfoy eat was really not her idea of fun.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She obeyed and as she did so, her stomach growled quite loudly.

He smirked. "Hungry?" He took another leisurely bite.

"I'm on a diet," she bit out, refusing to let him win.

He snorted with laughter, almost choking on his apple, and sending him into a bit of a coughing fit. She wondered what she'd have to say to actually make him choke. It was a nice fantasy.

"Girls like Pansy diet," he said after he'd finally stopped coughing. "Girls like you… don't."

There wasn't really much she could answer to that.

"Now answer me," he demanded. "Are you hungry?"

She scowled. "You know I am."

He tutted. "Such cheek from one who can ill afford it." He threw his half-eaten apple in the dustbin.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You enjoy this too much."

"You think so?" he asked. "From the way you're still using that filthy mouth of yours, I'd say I'm not enjoying this enough."

"I hate you." It simply slipped out, venom drenching every word. Hermione's eyes widened slightly as she realized what she'd said, but then she made an effort to get herself under control. It wasn't as if it could come as a big surprise to him. Not after everything he'd put her through.

He wasn't surprised. Not in the least. "Tell me something I don't know," he said in a bored voice.

"I never hated you before," she volunteered.

This seemed to take him aback. "What?"

Hermione took a deep breath for courage and shifted a bit. Her knees were beginning to ache. He absent-mindedly motioned for her to stand again, and she did so, carefully. "I never hated you before," she quietly said, looking down, once she finally stood. "You never really did anything worth hating. Your pranks were often childish and mean, and your insults were full of spite, but you weren't really cruel and nothing you did was so bad that it couldn't be undone."

She looked up at Draco, who was just staring mutely at her.

"Even when you let the Death Eaters in, those of us, who knew about it, knew that you were being heavily coerced and we mostly blamed you for not seeking help, but it was still somewhat understandable." She paused and something tightened in her jaw and around her lips. "But all of this? Humiliating me at every chance you get; abusing me, threatening me, and even starving me. Ruining my reputation; getting in the way of my school, my duties and my friendships. It hasn't even been a week yet, but you have managed to convince me that you truly do deserve my hate and that you will never be any better than your father, preying on those who can't fend for themselves. I used to think that there was a chance that one day you might open your eyes and realize that your father was wrong, but now I know that you will never change. You will never be anything but another abusive pureblood prat. You will never, ever be redeemable. I never used to hate you, but, now, hating you is easy."

Draco had slowly been going more and more white as she went on, whether from shock or anger or both, Hermione couldn't really tell. As she finished her tirade, he had gotten to his feet, now clearly fighting to keep his temper in check.

"Don't think you know me," he growled.

"I know just how cruel you can be to other human beings," she countered. "I know that you have no pity, no matter how one pleads with you. I don't need to know anything other than that."

His fists were clenched and his jaw was working. She was a little surprised that he would care enough about her words to get this angry, but then again – he always did have a short fuse when she dared to talk back.

"Well, in that case," he said, shoving the bag from his desk into the dust bin, where it hit the bottom heavily before disappearing. "You_ don't_ eat tonight, after all. I don't think irredeemable people bring their _slaves_ food."

She didn't believe for a second that he'd gotten her food. "There was never anything in there for me," she said as calmly as she could in the face of his anger.

"Yeah?" he asked, walking up close to her, towering over her, looking furious. "Well, you'll never really know now, will you? Dismissed."

She nervously edged her way around him to the door and then hurried out. She should never have been so blunt… but in a strange way it felt good. She had spoken nothing but the truth as she saw it.

"See you at breakfast," he called after her, his voice mocking, as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Draco paced his room like a caged animal. He was not upset that Granger hated him. The fact that she should hate him was part of the foundation that he based his very existence on. It was a given. To actually _feel_ this hate flowing at him, however, and to hear her say that he would never become anything that was better or more decent than his father… it had stung him on a level that it shouldn't. 

He had felt the truth of her words. Not that they were true, but she felt they were. And she was right that he could and would do a whole lot of things to her without feeling any remorse, although starving her hadn't actually been one of them. No matter how little he approved, he couldn't starve the girl that Theo _liked_. Well, he supposed that now he was doing it anyway, but damn it, her words had rivaled any insult he'd ever thrown at her!

He knew that she had forgotten. She had actually forgotten. She was the only one who knew why he hadn't killed Dumbledore, because she had forced the secret out of him.

_He was old and defenseless in that moment, and he's always been kind to me in spite of my family's reputation_.

But this exhibit of pity from his side was not a part of her careful analysis, because she had simply forgotten about it.

And it stung.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione!" Ginny called out, catching up with the older girl. "Do you think I could have my book back?" 

"What book?" Hermione asked, ducking through the portrait hole. She had a free period before lunch and she had every intention of using it to study.

Ginny followed. "The one about Great Witches Through The Ages that you borrowed from me a month ago?"

"Oh. That book." Hermione blushed a little. She didn't usually forget a book, but this one had been a little… bland. "Of course. We can get it now."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Ginny chirped, following Hermione to her room.

While Hermione rummaged around, trying to recall where she'd placed the book – honestly, normally she was much more organized than this – Ginny took her time in inspecting the Head Girl's quarters, since she'd never actually been there before.

"It should be around here somewhere," Hermione mumbled, going through a chest of books. "It'll just take a second."

"Uh, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"Just a second."

"Forget the book. What's this?"

Hermione turned to find Ginny crouching near the bed, picking up something half-hidden. As Ginny straightened, Hermione immediately recognized it and had to suppress a groan. Ginny was holding a large, green sock.

"Even if we pretend that I didn't notice this very particular shade of green," Ginny conversationally said. "It's made of very expensive material and much too big for you, or, let's face it, any girl in this dorm. Which brings me to think about which males can access these dormitories, and I'm back to noticing this very particular shade of green. Then there's the traumatizing fact that I'm actually rooting for one, because I _really_ don't want it to be the other."

Hermione quickly took a few steps closer to Ginny and snatched the sock from her hands. "It is _not_ what you think."

"It isn't?" Ginny asked. "Because I'm thinking that I just found a Slytherin's sock on your floor."

Hermione wearily rubbed her temple. "Ok, then it _is_ what you think."

"Are the rumors really true?" Ginny quietly asked.

Hermione wanted to shout "_NO!_" but she was powerless to refute the rumors that Draco had started. "Believe me, nobody's been here," she said instead. "I had to borrow these and I forgot to return them."

"Why did you have to borrow _socks_ from… either of them?"

"I was… summoned to the dungeons very late one night, it was an emergency and I ran all the way barefoot. It gets cold in the dungeons, so he told me to be more careful and wear socks next time if I didn't want to get sick." This was actually really close to the truth. Hermione was surprised she could give this much out, but then again, it _could_ sound like a Head Girl emergency.

Ginny sighed. "At least that rules out Malfoy," she mumbled. "He'd be ecstatic if you got sick, wouldn't he?"

Hermione made a non-committing sound.

"I'm just relieved that's all it is," Ginny continued. "You really had me scared for a second."

"It really is nothing," Hermione assured her. "But could you _not_ tell anyone, just the same? There's already these rumors…"

Ginny shrugged. "There's nothing to tell, is there? Did you find my book?"

* * *

Potions, Thursday afternoon. Not a very big class at all. Four Ravenclaws, four Slytherins, three Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff. They were all subject to Slughorn's strange ways twice a week, but it didn't exactly create a bond. 

Draco Malfoy was among the Slytherins, but, fortunately, so was Theodore Nott, so they sort of cancelled each other out. The other two Slytherins were Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis. Zabini was looking immensely bored and Davis seemed like she really didn't want to be there. Hermione always thought it was funny how female Slytherins were either like Parkinson or Davis. Either they were constantly trying to elevate their own social status, or they were just… trying to survive. She hardly understood what Davis was doing in Slytherin, but she supposed it must somehow be the ambition clause that got her there.

The Ravenclaws were Michael Corner, Stephen Cornfoot, Lisa Turpin and Morag McDougal. They were all excitedly playing some game that involved a piece of parchment, while they were waiting for Slughorn. It looked interesting. More interesting than what the Gryffindors were doing, anyway, which was staring blankly into space.

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron and then Ernie Macmillan, who did a fairly good imitation of the two of them. She groaned. This would be a long, long class. She nudged Harry.

"Hm?" he groggily said.

"Talk to me?" she ventured.

He nodded. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you about something… after class?"

Classes ended at 3.30pm. There was no time, she had to hurry up to her room and then be back in the dungeons by four. "I don't have time," she mumbled. "Can't you say it now?"

"I thought you promised Ron you'd _take_ more time," Harry said, low enough for only her to hear.

"I did, but I can't. It's only for a few weeks…"

"Is it true what they're saying?" Harry asked. "That you're spending all of your time with the Slytherins?"

"I can't talk about it." Hermione plucked a bit at her quill. "Just trust me, please."

Harry frowned slightly. "I've heard that Theodore Nott is actually half-decent for a Slytherin and I suppose he's the Head Boy, so I shouldn't mind if you're friends with him."

"But you do?" she asked, her voice quiet.

He sighed and shook his head as if to clear it. "I can't help it, Hermione. I know that it's not very open-minded of me, but I can't like any of them. I have yet to see one, who is worth liking. I would like to see just one Slytherin, one time, who isn't up to no good."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a second. "I don't really think Nott is up to anything," she said. "Or, maybe he is, but he doesn't seem like he's up to anything _bad_."

"So, you like him, then?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes," she replied, frowning. "He's not done anything not to like. I mean, he's aloof and hard to get to know, but I don't think he's… you know, like _them_." She meant Death Eaters, of course, but she couldn't quite bring herself to say it.

"I just wish you'd tell me more about what it is you're doing down in the dungeons, so I can stop worrying."

"I know, but it's not possible for me to—" At that point Slughorn chose to enter, cutting off all conversation.

Hermione glanced over at the Slytherin table, cursing Malfoy for doing this to her. He didn't seem to notice. He was busy kicking a scowling Zabini under the table and leering at him, causing him to snarl. Davis was timidly edging further and further away.

Shaking her head in incomprehension, Hermione directed her attention back to the teacher.

* * *

**Are we overdue for some smoochies? I think we are... Time to slowly begin the smooch fest, methinks, hehe.  
**

**She didn't reply. Instead she moved her hands up in his hair and held him still for a deep, hungry kiss. His hands went to her waist and he pulled her closer, a soft groan escaping his lips. She was so tempting.**

**She lifted her head slightly and smirked at him. "No, you don't seem very satisfied."**


	20. Chapter 20

**Oh, yay, smoochies!**

**And loving the reviews. Especially the in-depth gushings, speculations and analyses. They're my only payment, so thank you for being good providers!**

* * *

Friday was doomed to be anything but easy. After classes were finally done, and she'd taken her bag back to her room, Hermione yawned and stumbled down to the dungeons. She was exhausted and she was prepared to beg to be let off the hook tonight, if it might work, but by now she knew Draco well enough to know that he wouldn't care. He'd probably even take extra pleasure in torturing her. So, she didn't beg or even say anything, she just went to her usual spot without saying a word. 

"You're late," he informed her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, not bothering to try and explain.

"What have I said about waiting?" he persisted.

He'd hardly been waiting; he was just sitting at his desk, doing his homework, as usual. He seemed to be doing as much homework as she was, it was slightly peculiar.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

He turned around to pin her with a stare, but Hermione was too tired to care. She simply yawned, just barely covering her mouth with her hand in time. She wasn't overly concerned with her manners in front of Malfoy. The biggest problem she had right now was that she was seeing two of him.

"Why are you so tired?" he asked.

Hermione's eyebrow went up. "Lack of sleep." She wished she could have voiced that as a question.

"Why didn't you sleep? I let you go early yesterday."

"Friends wanted to see me. And then I had to do all the homework for today."

"You could have told your friends you didn't have time," he pointed out.

Hermione snorted and stumbled slightly. "Hardly!"

"Sit down, before you fall down," he sneered.

Hermione blinked and looked down at the floor. It did look strangely inviting in spite of her knowing how cold it was.

"No, not on the floor, Theo would kill me if you got pneumonia. Sit on the bed."

Hermione looked strangely at Draco, but did as he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You mean, Zabini would kill you."

"Him too, I suspect," he mumbled. "Why didn't you just let homework be homework and go to sleep?"

She tried saying something but the words couldn't get out and finally she made a frustrated sound. "You know, it would be easier, if there weren't these rules on how I can answer!"

"Will it really kill you to answer a question without countering with a question?" he asked, sounding almost amused.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

He raised an eyebrow. "Ok, then you can ask questions." He smirked at her stunned expression. "I'm not allowed to kill you. Not to mention that it would be bad for my own health."

"I can ask questions?" she mumbled and then she grinned. "I can ask questions!"

"Yes, so what was the question you wanted to ask?"

Hermione frowned. "I can't remember."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It was killing you and then you can't even remember three seconds later?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure it was very profound, a once in a lifetime question. You missed out by placing the ban on questions in the first place."

He stared at her. "I'm sure I did…" he mumbled. "Do you always get like this when you're sleep-deprived?"

"Get like what?" She grinned and just caught herself before she clapped her hands. She had never known how much she loved asking questions.

"'Easily excited' comes to mind," he said.

She scowled. "I have something to be excited about!" she said in her own defense. "I am allowed to sit down _and_ ask questions. This should be a national holiday, don't you think?" She giggled.

"Now you're just abusing your right to questions."

"Well, you know what they say – no good deed goes unpunished."

"They say what?"

"Maybe it's Muggles who say it. Somebody's saying it, anyway." She giggled again.

Draco blinked and stared some more. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was drunk, but she really just was tired as far as he could tell. And she was right. He'd just let her sit down as well as ask questions, which definitely ruled out letting her go to bed too. She'd just have to stay awake and he'd just have to get over the deeply disturbing fact that she was actually giggling.

He stood up. "Try not to make a habit of this because it's… disturbing…"

"What's disturbing?" she asked, still giggling as she leaned back against the bed post.

"Don't be getting too familiar with that!" he growled, scowling at her as she righted herself slightly.

"Stickler!" she said and stuck out her tongue at him.

He gaped. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"No," she said. "My mind is right here. It's just too tired to care what you're going to do to me. So what'll it be, King Malfoy? Which horribly humiliating and degrading task will you set me today?"

He didn't have a reply. He didn't know. He was torn between wanting to stay friends with Theo and wanting to get his revenge on the girl, who always thought she was better than everyone. Her behaving this oddly didn't help his dilemma in the least, it just added to his general state of confusion.

"Stay!" he said. "You… stay!"

Then he left in search of sane company.

* * *

"Right," Blaise said, suppressing a yawn. "I'm going to bed too." 

The common room had been slowly clearing out for the past few hours, leaving only Blaise and Draco.

"Already?" Draco asked, not feeling tired in the least. "But it's Friday!"

"It's almost one a.m. already, so technically it's Saturday," Blaise saw it fit to point out, "and I want to sleep for a long, long time."

Draco only grunted. Leave it to Blaise to abandon him.

Blaise rolled his eyes at his moody friend. "Have fun!" he said, before he left.

Then Draco was alone, staring into the fire. He supposed he should go back to his room, but he didn't want to before he figured out what he wanted to do. He obviously couldn't stop what he was doing, and he really didn't condone Theo's preoccupation with the Head Girl – he didn't like where that might be going.

What if Theo and Granger started dating? The thought made Draco sick. Obviously he had to try and stop that… But would Theo really choose Granger over Draco? It seemed impossible that he wouldn't have to make that choice if he was determined to pursue Granger. Perhaps he had already made that choice. Perhaps Draco was deluding himself, thinking that Theo cared about anyone else. After all, he _was_ a Slytherin, and most ambition was rooted in an inherent selfishness. Right now, Theo's only ambition seemed to be to get Granger, and he had never been what one could call a warm friend in the first place.

Draco couldn't allow this relationship to take place. He just couldn't. Granger was everything that did not suit a Slytherin, and he needed to save Theo from that. Even if Theo had decided that he had no need for friends, Draco wanted to be a friend in this respect. He just had to be careful, because being too obvious would certainly make this whole thing backfire. Theo would never expect him to condone a relationship, but he'd probably frown at underhanded sabotage as well.

The real question was, however, how much he would be able to get from this bet now without interference from Theo?

"Such a gloomy face," a soft voice said. "Contemplating your sins, are you?"

Draco sighed. "Not now, Pans—" Her name died on his lips as she stepped forward. Talk about sin. She was definitely not wearing the same clothes he'd seen her in earlier. The skirt she had on was most definitely too short for the dungeons in October, and her top wasn't much better.

"What are you up to?" he asked, having a sneaking suspicion that he already knew.

She smiled and took a few more steps forward. His gaze travelled down her shapely legs to realize that she was wearing heels. No, this was definitely not good.

"Look, Pans," he tried again. "Whatever it is that you think you're doing…"

"I'm staking my claim," she practically purred. "You are _mine_."

He swallowed nervously. "Nobody ever said I wasn't. There's no need for this."

She straddled his lap, and he fervently wished he knew some way of getting out of this, even as his body reacted to her proximity.

"You gave _her_ the bracelet to wear," she hissed. "I should dump you for that. But I'm not a quitter, and I certainly won't lose to a Mudblood."

Draco closed his eyes as her silky locks caressed his neck. "I already told you it's not like that," he mumbled. "She's just my slave."

Pansy growled and dug her nails painfully into his shoulders. "And what kind of slave might that be?"

Draco's eyes flew open. "Merlin, Pansy! You can't possibly think that I… would _want_ that?"

She didn't reply. Instead she moved her hands up in his hair and held him still for a deep, hungry kiss. His hands went to her waist and he pulled her closer, a soft groan escaping his lips. She was so tempting.

She lifted her head slightly and smirked at him. "No, you don't seem very satisfied."

This hurt. Since when did she have any reason to doubt him? "So that's what this is?" he asked. "Some boyfriend faithfulness test? Well, since I passed, do you mind leaving me alone?"

She merely tutted and ran her lips across his cheek to his ear, where she gently nibbled at him. "My Draco, always quick to take offense," she breathed as she began unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his neck.

Draco's breathing was becoming ragged. "Pansy, please…" he begged, his hands having found their way under her top to caress her midriff of their own accord.

She shushed him and kissed his lips again before abruptly yanking off her top, exposing her bra to his hungry gaze. He moaned.

"Touch me…" she mumbled, rubbing her lower body against him and making him gasp. "Please, Draco…" She repeated the motion.

He hesitantly raised a trembling hand to caress her breast through the bra. She moved again and his eyes rolled back. "You have to stop that," he panted.

"Why?" she asked. "You like it, I can tell."

"It's_ because_ I—" He didn't get to finish the sentence, because she cut him off with another kiss and intensified her movements.

He lost all sense of reason and grabbed her hip, urging her on. It felt so good. He moaned loudly and she swallowed his moans with her kisses. He gathered her closer, wanting more.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

He jerked his head back. What was he doing? He couldn't do this, not to Pansy.

"No," she whimpered. "No, don't stop, please, Draco… Don't stop…" She captured his lips again.

He gathered her close, kissing her hungrily and caressing her soft skin and she sighed with contentment. He was wound so tight, he was surprised he could even function. She wriggled on top of him, driving him insane, and he knew that soon something would have to give and he would either take her or come like this.

He couldn't allow either.

He slowly withdrew from her.

"No!" she objected again. "Don't stop."

"We have to," he rasped, cursing himself for not just being able to take what was offered.

"We don't have to," she countered. "Why are you holding out on me?"

He sighed and gently pushed her off him. He really couldn't think very well with her grinding on his lap. "I have to go do a Potions essay for tomorrow," he mumbled, getting up and wincing slightly at the discomfort. She probably had no clue how hard it was for him to stop, how badly he just wanted to lose himself.

"Tomorrow is Saturday!"

"And I need the extra credit!"

It wasn't a lie that he had to do the essay, but they both knew that that wasn't why he was turning her down.

"I thought you'd gotten over that stupid notion," she growled as she angrily righted herself, before stalking off to her dormitories.

"No good deed goes unpunished," he mumbled to himself, staring after her.

* * *

Draco let himself into his room with a sigh and turned on the lamp on his desk. Something was amiss. He frowned and turned around, his eyes going wide. He had forgotten about her. Somewhere between contemplating what to do about Hermione and Theo and Pansy's scheme to seduce him, he had forgotten that Hermione was waiting in his room. 

And now she was fast asleep.

On _his_ bed.

As he stared, she mumbled in her sleep and moved, hugging his pillow closer.

_That's my pillow! Leave it alone!_

He stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds, before gathering his wits enough to take a few steps forward in order to wake her up. Falling asleep on _his_ bed, what gall! Couldn't she have moved about a bit or fallen asleep on the floor or something?

The room wasn't terribly large, so it only took a second to reach her, but before he could joggle her awake, a motion caught his eye, as she slowly drew up her legs, rubbing them against each other. Draco found himself staring at those legs. Belonging to the female. On _his_ bed. If ever there was a time that he didn't need a sleeping female on his bed, it was now. It conjured images. Wrong images.

This was absolutely insane, not to mention disgusting.

He looked up and caught his own reflection in the mirror on the other side of the bed. His hair and clothes were mussed, his lips were red and swollen, and his eyes were dark. He even had a few love bites on his neck. There could be no doubt what he'd been up to. He also knew for a rather painful fact that he was still very much suffering the aftereffects of his extracurricular activities.

Maybe it wasn't very wise to supply Granger with such potent – no pun intended – ammunition against him as seeing him in this rather frustrated state would.

He looked down again, wrinkling his nose. He really didn't like the way she was becoming familiar with his bed, though. He deliberately ignored her legs, not wanting to get into why they had fascinated him so just before. She turned a little, so she was lying slightly on the side and his eyes were drawn to where her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her blouse each time she took one of her deep, even breaths.

He practically jumped back. Curse Pansy for doing a number on him. He scowled in the direction of Granger's face. _She'd better not be drooling!_ Her lips were pink and slightly parted in sleep, and her mass of curls were strewn across the pillow that she wasn't currently hugging.

Oh, grand, he'd be finding her hair for months now.

He turned his back on the offending sight and went to take a look at the essay he had to do for the next day. Nothing cooled one's misplaced ardor like writing about squished animal bits. He sat down and picked up a quill, right as Granger let out a long sigh behind him, sending a shiver through him.

He shot out of his chair. Maybe a nice cold shower first would be nice.

He fled the room.

* * *

**Tough to beat last week's preview, but maybe if we bring Harry and Ron into the picture... **

**"What?" he said, obviously trying to look hurt and failing. "You mean, you haven't told your friends yet? You promised me you would!" He held her eyes, his gaze unwavering.**

**"What's he talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked, clearly confused.**

**"N-Noth—" Hermione began, but was interrupted.**

**"None of that now, _Hermione_," Draco said with an affectionate smile. "Say what I want to hear."**

**... Also, we'll learn what the bracelet _is_... Bwahahahaha**


	21. Chapter 21

**So, I just spent 30 galleons on books for next semester... Indeed, I have done a conversion to galleons. How sad is that?**

* * *

Hermione slowly woke from her very nice, long, comfortable nap. She hummed and stretched lazily. She seemed to still be wearing clothes and lying on top of her covers. That was strange. She rarely fell asleep on top of her bed this late. She frowned and raised herself to her elbows. 

Something was off with her bedding…

She gasped. This was most definitely not her bed. Bedding didn't even _come_ in that color in the Gryffindor tower. Hoping against hope that she was somehow mistaken, she slowly looked around the room.

There was no mistake. There was no doubt. She'd fallen asleep on Malfoy's bed.

She fell back with a groan. At least he hadn't come back yet. Or… Something was nagging at her again. She looked up again to try and figure out what it was. The lamp. It hadn't been on earlier. Her eyes widened. He _had_ been back here, then? And he'd let her sleep? This couldn't be good…

She scrambled off the bed, not wanting to be caught in a vulnerable position when he came back again, and she'd just righted herself somewhat when he entered. He'd obviously been taking a shower, because he was still drying his hair, even though he was thankfully fully dressed.

He looked up and pinned her with his gaze, before looking at the bed. Hermione glanced at where she had been just a few minutes earlier, and realized that she had really rumpled his spread. She winced.

He didn't comment. "Go away," he said, taking his chair.

"Why did you let me sleep?" she blurted out.

He rubbed his forehead and mumbled something very unflattering about certain inquisitive Gryffindors before asking, "What time is it?"

Hermione blinked uncomprehendingly, but dutifully answered, "2.30 a.m."

"Right," he said. "And how many people know you're here?"

She paled. Half the school probably knew where she was at.

He smirked and turned his back on her to look at his homework. "Don't worry, Granger. You could always tell them the truth – you fell asleep after I was done with you."

"You can't do that," she whispered. "You can't make people think that." He didn't respond and she took a step forward and grabbed his arm. "You can't!"

"Hey!" he exclaimed, abruptly standing, turning over the chair, as he yanked his arm back. "You _don't_ touch me. Ever!"

Hermione didn't respond, she was too busy frowning at him. "Ice cold…" she mumbled. "You're cold as ice." She wasn't referring to his behavior anymore.

"Yes, well," he said, backing a bit away from her, "didn't anyone tell you that Slytherins are cold-blooded?"

"Your shower must have been freezing," she mused. "Why would you be taking cold showers?"

He snarled. "Maybe to prevent myself from killing Mudbloods that are drooling all over my pillow?"

"No, I think the cold would only make your mood worse," she pensively said.

"In that case," he growled, "I'd be getting out of here real fast if I were you!"

Hermione snapped to attention. What the hell was she doing? Why hadn't she just cleared out when he first told her to? She shook her head, mumbled an apology and fled.

* * *

Draco's mood was foul to say the least. He felt dirty. He felt violated. He felt… frustrated. He had been unable to concentrate on the essay that he had had to do for Slughorn, and so, he had just spent an hour being picked apart by that fat, old bigot, because of the less than stellar work he'd turned in. 

Snape had been a much better Potions teacher.

Draco felt an urgent need to kick something. Preferably something small, innocent and furry. He looked around him to see if anything fit the description. He had gone out to one of the castle's inner courtyards in an effort to get some air and clear his head. Nothing small and furry presented itself, though, unless one were to count the first years, who were huddling in a corner, giving him wide-eyed stares. Their fear soothed him a little. He was still a force to be reckoned with; last night had just been… Pansy's fault. Curse Pansy for tying him in knots, when she _knew_ that he wouldn't allow it to go any further.

The sound of voices carried on the wind and Draco stiffened. No, it couldn't be. It was too much if he couldn't even get away from her long enough to get some much needed air. He slowly looked up. It was Granger, Weasley _and_ Potter, all together and merrily chatting away. It seemed that her friends hadn't quite abandoned her yet.

A slow smile spread across Draco's face. Maybe he'd get to kick something small and furry after all.

* * *

"There you are, _lover_. I've been looking for you!" 

Hermione froze mid-sentence. This couldn't be. Not so blatantly. She slowly turned to find Malfoy lazily leaning against a wall. She met his cold gaze and she immediately knew what he was going to do. His lip quirked slightly at her.

"Stop saying such things," she hissed, knowing that resistance was futile, but at least hoping that Harry would get the hint.

"What?" he said, obviously trying to look hurt and failing. "You mean, you haven't told your friends yet? You promised me you would!" He held her eyes, his gaze unwavering.

"What's he talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"N-Noth—" Hermione began, but was interrupted.

"None of that now, _Hermione_," Draco said with an affectionate smile. "Say what I want to hear."

The command in his voice was clear, and it was made worse by the way he almost imperceptively quirked an eyebrow.

"Malfoy…" she began, but was interrupted again.

"You know what to call me." His voice was soft as silk.

She wanted to kill him, slowly and painfully.

"I know what I would _like_ to call you," she bit off.

"Ah…" he said with a grin. "You can call me those names in private, lover. For now, use my given name. After all, secret's out, isn't it?"

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Harry harshly asked. "You know what? Never mind. Just get lost!"

"Go on, then," Draco said, ignoring Harry. "Tell them, Hermione. Tell them why you come down to the dungeons every day and don't leave until late into the night… Tell them what it is I want them to know. Tell them whose bed you've been sleeping in."

Ron's face lost all color and then it returned with a vengeance. "YOU LIAR!" he yelled, launching himself at Draco, "YOU FILTHY, DISGUSTING, LYING SON OF A—"

"NO!!!" Hermione threw herself in front of Ron before he could reach Draco, making Draco's eyes widen in surprise.

Ron stopped, looking a bit bewildered himself. "He's lying, Hermione. You can't let him say such things about you, as if you were a-a…"

"He's not lying," Hermione choked out. Technically he wasn't. He was ordering her to do the lying for him. _Say what I want to hear._ She wished there was some way to fool the bracelet into thinking that she didn't understand what he wanted from her. "It's the truth. M-M… Draco and I are… We're…" Her voice trailed off and she couldn't complete the sentence. She didn't have to.

Three young men were staring at her. One with thinly veiled triumph on his face, another with stunned shock, and the third looked as if his entire world had just crumbled to dust.

"Him?" Ron whispered. "You're with… him? You're letting him…" He swallowed convulsively. "He doesn't even care about you," he mumbled. "Do you really love him?"

Hermione couldn't stand the pain in his eyes and the unspoken question: _Then what about me?_ She looked away. He would never forgive this betrayal, she was sure of it. She rapidly blinked away tears.

"Love?" Draco snorted. "I wouldn't call it that, Weasel. After all, she's really just a Mudblood, isn't she?"

Both Harry and Ron launched at him at that, but Hermione was faster, jumping in the way again, accidentally knocking Draco into the wall in her efforts to avoid violence, making him grunt as his head painfully hit the bricks.

"Move, Hermione," Harry ground out. "He's got to pay for that."

Hermione shook her head and slowly took her wand out, brandishing it at the two people she never thought she'd hold at wand-point. "I can't allow that," she said. "No violence. Please. You can't hurt him." She swallowed, desperately fighting the tears that kept wanting to come.

"You mean to say," Ron quietly asked, "that you really choose to be with someone who will talk about you like that and you will raise your wand at me – us – in his defense?"

"Looks like it, mate," Draco said, feeling more than a little confused himself, but not letting it show. Instead he just smirked at the redheaded Gryffindor.

"Shut up!" Hermione yelled at Draco. "You just… shut UP! You got what you wanted, didn't you? Isn't that enough?" She furiously wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Come on," Harry said, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. "There's nothing else for us here."

Ron nodded and together the two of them left. Hermione stayed until they were gone and then, without a second glance at Draco, she ran in the opposite direction.

* * *

Draco somehow thought he'd feel better about separating Granger from her friends. Not that he was feeling guilty or anything, because he most definitely wasn't. This nagging feeling wasn't guilt. He just didn't understand what had happened, that was all. Why had Granger been so adamant that Potter and Weasley didn't tear into him? It didn't really make sense. It had made the whole thing worse for her than it had to be. Maybe she had thought that she had to, or maybe she had thought he'd be nicer to her if she did it, but in both cases she was wrong. She would find that out soon enough.

It wasn't to be nice that he'd then proceeded to let her off that afternoon. He'd simply known that he would not been able to concentrate with a sniffling female in the room, and he had this extra essay for Transfiguration that he needed to do well on in order to be allowed to take his NEWTs.

However, it wasn't just when she was in the room that she was distracting him. He could feel her despair. He really wished that there was a way to turn the ring off; knowing these things became a burden after a while. Ultimately, he had to take the ring off in order to concentrate on his essay, but now even that felt… strange. He felt like he'd forgotten something, as if something was missing, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He felt empty.

He was, in short, going insane.

* * *

Draco started as his door flew open. 

"What the…?" he mumbled as he saw Granger standing there. He glanced at his clock. It was still only noon and she wasn't due until four. He glanced at where his ring lay on the desk; he hadn't put it on since yesterday after the incident with her friends. "I didn't summon you," he said with a frown. "What the Hell are you doing here? Go away!"

She snorted and dumped a book in front of him, right in the middle of the parchment that he was writing on.

"Oi! Would you watch it?" he growled, shoving the book aside and scowling at the smeared ink.

She pushed the book back in front of him. "What's this?" she growled right back at him. "You owe me some answers! It's the least you can do!"

Draco scowled some more, but Hermione was clearly unimpressed, so he decided to see what had her feeling suicidal.

"It's a picture of my great great grandmother," he said. "I'm touched by your interest. Could you leave now?" He moved the book slightly to get the ring, but found it gone. She must have pushed it a bit and now he had to look for it, which he couldn't do without her realizing that he wasn't wearing it. Grand, no easy way to get rid of her.

Hermione pointed to the stately lady's wrist, where an unmistakable bracelet was residing. "I knew there was something you weren't telling me when…" She paused. "Oh, damn you and all your freaking rules!_ Somebody_ went ballistic after seeing me wear this."

Draco pretended nothing was amiss, when in reality nothing he'd ever said held any power over her as long as he didn't wear the ring. "You can talk about Pansy," he said. "Where did you find this, anyway?"

"The library, of course," she said. "Why is your great great grandmother wearing an enslaving device? Is it really that hard for Malfoys to get women to marry them?"

"If I tell you, will you go away?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded.

"It's not an enslaving device," he said. "It's…" He winced slightly. "It was designed for the Malfoy wives."

"_WHAT?_" Hermione all but shrieked.

"Actually, if you think about it, there are a lot of women who would gladly wear it, who would even be _honored_ to wear it… You're pretty ungrateful, you know."

"Idiot," she hissed. "And any woman who would willingly wear this is an idiot as well!"

"Hey, you just insulted every single witch in my family!"

"And Pansy," Hermione pointed out with a smirk.

"Look, you clearly don't understand…"

"I do understand!" she ground out. "Malfoy men are obsessed with controlling everything around them, including their wives, who obviously can't be allowed independent thought or action. And some women don't mind this as long as they have rich husbands, so in your mind that makes it ok."

"You_ don't_ understand," he growled. "Marriages have often been arranged, and when you manage millions of galleons and important Ministry affairs, you need to _know_ that you can trust your wife. I've never heard about anyone wearing it for more than a year before their husband allowed them to take it off, but often they kept it on willingly even after that. And not everyone has worn it; I don't think anybody has used it for a hundred years."

"Can you read my mind with it on?" she asked. "You can, can't you!? Talk about violation…"

He blinked. "Of course I can't read your mind! What the Hell is this?" He sneered at her. "I told you more than I have to, so now, scoot!"

Hermione crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him. "I guess the name _Malfoy_ is really earned, isn't it? Bad Faith, it's earned by the lot of you."

"Is that so?" he asked. "Well, isn't that just open-minded of you, to judge me by the name I was born to? But what else could I expect from someone who was born to the name of _peasant_, hm, Granger?" He stood, slammed her book shut and shoved it roughly at her. "Don't come back at four, I don't have time to babysit today. Perhaps you could go _not_ socialize with your friends." He unceremoniously pushed her out the door and slammed it in her face.

* * *

**Darn me for doing chapters where it's hard to quote something without giving too much away... **

**"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?"**

**The last class was out and Hermione had been slowly making her way towards the Gryffindor tower, when Ron intercepted her. She stared at him, unsure what to say.**

**"Or do you have somewhere to be?" he asked, his face falling.**

**"N-no," Hermione stammered. She didn't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours. "I'm free."**


	22. Chapter 22

**The spring semester at my University just started, so updates will slow down a bit from now on. If you wish to become my benefactor so I don't need an education, please contact me for payment info, otherwise... well, I guess we'll all have to live with slightly fewer updates. I will still endeavor to update about twice a week, but it will all very much depend on how busy I am. Nagging won't promote a desire in my to update more frequently.**

* * *

Hermione didn't like Mondays. No, that wasn't true; she didn't like _this_ Monday. Being separated from her friends during the weekend was one thing. She could hide out at the library, pretending that it wasn't true. On a school day, however, she had to spend her classes not talking to her friends and it was downright painful. It wasn't the first time that she'd had a fight with either or both of them, of course, but somehow this felt… different. They believed that she was sleeping with Malfoy, and she was powerless to refute it. Ron wouldn't even look at her, and all day he was uncharacteristically quiet. Harry was much the same. It was torture. 

This was day ten. One third of the time had passed and Hermione didn't really think that Malfoy could hurt her any more than he already had. He would probably try and make her lose Head Girl, but that didn't matter much to her if she didn't have her friends. She still didn't doubt that they would forgive her once she could explain, but from the defeated look on Ron's face, she simply wasn't sure that _that_ aspect of their relationship could be mended.

Perhaps it was better this way. After all, they had almost, but not quite, had a thing since fourth year, and it was her fault that it had never progressed. She had done something back then that she hadn't quite been able to forgive herself for, and as a result she had been backing away every time Ron had tried to hint at how he felt. This, of course, had made Ron cautious, and they had been caught in this state of maybe-a-little-bit-more-than-friends for years. It had hurt when Ron had decided to date Lavender Brown last year, but Hermione had tried to cope with it. She hadn't succeeded very well, but she had tried, thinking that perhaps they were never meant to be anything more than friends.

And now there was this.

Maybe Malfoy was inadvertently doing her a favor, although she'd certainly never let him think so. Maybe she and Ron needed to move on. She just wished that Ron and Harry didn't think she was sleeping with him. Moving on was one thing, but having her friends think that she was pretty much whoring herself out to the one Slytherin, who had always been on their case since first year… it was too much.

She knew her friends and she knew they loved her. If they thought that she was in a relationship, they would try and be supportive, no matter how much they hated the one she was with. But this wasn't even like that. The way Malfoy presented this… _thing_… was that she was accepting his abuse and basically throwing herself at him and he was just taking what was being offered as the Slytherin he was.

Her reputation wouldn't be easy to salvage after this. There was no way that she could prove that he had been lying. Her only hope was that she could somehow brush it off and people would put it all down to bad judgment on her part. It rankled, but there was little else she could do.

At least Malfoy had also dented his own pureblood image by letting it be widely believed that he'd been sleeping with a Muggleborn. This gave Hermione some satisfaction, in spite of the fact that it didn't seem to faze him one bit.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?"

The last class was out and Hermione had been slowly making her way towards the Gryffindor tower, when Ron intercepted her. She stared at him, unsure what to say.

"Or do you have somewhere to be?" he asked, his face falling.

"N-no," Hermione stammered. She didn't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours. "I'm free."

"Ok," he said, trying to catch her eye, but she suddenly felt that her feet were very interesting to look at. He sighed. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.

She nodded hesitantly. "But some things I can't—"

"We'll talk about whatever you want to talk about," he reassured her, taking her arm and steering her towards an empty classroom.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so for the longest time she just stared at Ron after he had closed the door after them and was leaning against it.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Why him?"

She shook her head. "That's one thing I can't answer."

"Then tell me _something_," he pleaded. "_Anything._ Make me understand."

Hermione wasn't certain she could do that. She swallowed. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she mumbled.

"But you did," he roughly said. "You must have known that you would when you let _Malfoy_ of all people be your first lover."

"He wasn't my first lover." The words slipped out and Hermione's hands went to her mouth, belatedly trying to keep the words in as she realized what she'd said. She hadn't refuted Malfoy's claim that she was his lover, because that was physically impossible for her; she had done something much, much worse. Her eyes widened in horror, tears filling them.

Ron stared at her as if she'd slapped him, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. Hermione wanted to die for hurting him like this. "If that's the case," he finally said in a shaky voice. "Then why didn't you just say that you never wanted me? Why did you let me think that, maybe, someday…" His voice faded. "Who are you?" he whispered.

"No, Ron," Hermione pleaded, taking a step towards him. "It was such a long time ago, it was before… but I was afraid to tell you. I'm sorry."

Ron blinked a few times and looked around him as if he was trying to remember what he was doing there. Finally, he carefully pushed away from the door and staggered over to a chair to take a seat.

"I always did want to be your girlfriend," Hermione continued, battling back the tears, "but back then I was confused and you didn't seem like you wanted anything to do with me, so I made the worst mistake of my life."

"That still doesn't explain Malfoy," he hoarsely said.

"No, it doesn't," she conceded. "I can't explain that. Not yet. Please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you," he slowly said, his throat working convulsively. "You don't have to lower yourself to be with the likes of him. Please don't see him anymore."

Hermione winced. "I have to," she whispered. "I have an… arrangement… with him. I'm his for another three weeks."

Ron shot off the chair. "You mean to say he's _raping_ you?" he yelled. "Is that what this is, Hermione? Is he forcing you? Does he have something on you that he uses to force you to sleep with him? Answer me!"

Hermione stared at Ron in shock. "Of course not!" she blurted out. "I swear, Ron, he's never touched me against my will!"

She couldn't allow him to think that Draco was raping her. In spite of everything he'd ever done, rapist was one label he did not deserve. He was the nastiest pureblood bigot south of the North Pole, but she had never seen any evidence that he touched any girl against her will – quite the opposite. She hadn't heard about him in connection with anyone but Pansy and Merlin knew she was willing.

Ron slowly sat down again. "Then I _still_ don't understand," he said, hitting the table quite forcibly with his closed fist. "You know I love you and yet you choose to go to someone who will call you a Mudblood and belittle you just for the fun of it. I know you don't think so little of yourself. He must be putting a lot of effort into seducing you."

Hermione almost laughed out loud at that notion, but only almost. This whole thing was so tragic.

"I'm not asking you to wait for me until I can explain, and I promise you I _will_ explain when this is over," she said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "I know it's over b-between us… I just hope you forgive me enough that you'll be my friend again. Maybe not now, but some day…"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, getting up again to go over to her and grab her shoulders. "I will never _not_ be your friend, do you hear me? I don't understand any of this, but don't you dare think you're alone!"

Hermione's eyes widened and a warm feeling spread in her chest, the tears finally spilling. "Ron…" she breathed.

"And I won't lie to you, it hurts like the devil to know that you're with _him_, but if that's what you have to do… I just want you to be happy, and if you say that you can explain some day, then I will wait for it and hope I can understand you then." His hands slipped down her arms and his eyes softened. "And if there's a chance that maybe someday you will let me love you, then I'll be here waiting for that day. You won't be getting away from me that easily."

Hermione couldn't speak. Instead, she flung her arms around the boy who probably cared more about her than anyone else in the whole world, and held him tight, while her traitorous tears soaked through his robes. His arms gently enfolded her, and she felt him press a kiss on the top of her head. She lifted her face to his, and his lips gently brushed away her tears before finding her lips.

* * *

Draco was feeling restless and irritable. The cursed ring was doing this to him. If he took it off, he was restless and irritable because of the void it left, and if he put it on, he was restless and irritable because of the despair that kept pouring in at him. 

This had to stop. He didn't know how, but, somehow, it had to stop. He had to find a way to block those feelings. He wished that he could just order Granger to get over being snubbed by her loser friends, but he knew that the bracelet didn't work that way. He couldn't order her how to feel.

He growled audibly.

"Such a lovely mood today," Blaise observed from his place on the couch. "Again, I might add. You know, you'll become a grumpy old man one of these days."

Theo hid a smile behind a hand.

"So, what's ailing you?" Blaise asked. "Girl problems?" He smirked.

Draco scowled. "Girls _are_ problems; I'm considering moving to an all-male society."

Blaise laughed out loud and Theo quirked an eyebrow.

"Things might be required of you in such a society," Theo mused. "Things that you might not be very willing to… explore."

Blaise's laughter grew louder.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't be too sure of that, it might be worth it."

Blaise now had tears rolling down his cheeks and was gasping for air.

The other two looked at him for a few minutes.

"I think he's beginning to lack oxygen," Theo observed.

Draco nodded, noticing the purplish tint to his friend's face. "I wouldn't worry too much about it," he said. "He's got nothing that will sustain any real damage."

Blaise slid down from the couch to the floor, still shaking uncontrollably.

"He sure is easily amused," Theo said after a bit. "A few remarks and he gets going for several minutes."

"I know," Draco said, poking the dark Slytherin with a foot. "He's worse than a girl sometimes."

"So, he's not invited to your all-male society then?"

Draco wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "No." He paused and then added as an afterthought, "But you can come if you want."

Blaise's laughter, which had been subsiding, started up again with renewed force.

Theo pretended to consider this. "No, thank you," he said after a few seconds. "I find that I'm quite unwilling to… explore… even with you."

Draco shrugged. "You'd be missing out," he said, unable to suppress his own grin anymore.

Theo raised an eyebrow and also poked Blaise with a foot. "I'm sure I would," he murmured.

"Enough with the gay talk," Blaise gasped from the floor. "Please!" He worked himself up to his elbows, looking thoroughly rumpled.

Draco looked up to catch Tracey Davis looking at Blaise from across the room with a small fond smile on her lips. So they were still at it, were they?

"So, how's Tracey?" Draco asked, pursing his lips.

This stopped Blaise's laughter, but he didn't get angry. Instead he looked rather resigned. "I don't know," he said, getting up and sitting down on the couch again. "Why don't you ask her?"

Draco shrugged. "I would, but it's much easier to ask you, you seem to have all the… inside… info on that one."

Blaise's eyes darkened with anger, but he didn't let it show in any other way. "Tracey is fine," he said in his most silky voice. "In fact I was talking to her just yesterday, and guess what she told me?"

Draco decided to take the bait. "What did she tell you?" he asked.

Blaise smiled. It was a slow, unpleasant smile. "She told me that Pansy has been complaining that you won't sleep with her. Apparently, it's been that way for months and that was the original reason why you broke up. Imagine my surprise…"

Draco's eyes widened and he blanched a little. This was going too far, even if he'd been picking on Blaise with regards to Tracey.

Even Theo thought so. "Blaise, that's personal," he quietly said.

"Is it?" Blaise said, angrily getting up. "Then perhaps our dear _Draco_ here should keep his nose out of _other people'_s personal business!" He stormed off to his dormitory.

Draco swallowed and stared after his friend.

"Perhaps you shouldn't pick on him," Theo said. "He's very sensitive about it and it really isn't our business."

Draco didn't get a chance to reply because suddenly he noticed a change in the emotions flowing at him from the ring. They went from heartbreaking despair to warmth and contentment with very little warning. His eyes bulged and he made a strangled sound at the change. It didn't end there. Then it became… pleasure!?

What the hell was going on?

"What's wrong, Draco?" Theo asked.

"Uh, um, ah, nothing," Draco mumbled, hardly able to concentrate long enough to give that reply. He abruptly stood. "I have to go… my room… homework…"

He hurried off before Theo could ask any questions.

* * *

**This time I even edited it to give you names... **

**"Why would I tell you my secrets?" he asked. "The last thing I need is for you to have something on me."**

**"I wouldn't use it against you," Hermione immediately said. "I promise. On my honor. And how could I, anyway? It's just homework; the worst case scenario is that you're failing your classes or…" Her voice trailed off as he tensed.**

**Draco stared straight ahead and she shifted uncomfortably.**

**"You're failing your classes?" she quietly asked. "How can that be?"**


	23. Chapter 23

**Definition of pleasure: "A state of feeling or being happy or satisfied." Really. Don't put too much stock into that word.**

* * *

Hermione stumbled into Draco's room, having run the whole way. This was unfair. Why would he choose _now_ of all times to decide that he wanted to summon her two hours early? He had to be able to read minds, he had to. Somehow he must have known that she wasn't miserable and have decided to rectify it. 

He just couldn't stand when she wasn't unhappy, could he?

Poor Ron, she had left him rather abruptly when the summons went off with more intensity than usual. She had been so confused and overwhelmed with the urgency that she had hardly been able to say goodbye. He probably thought that it was the kissing that had her running away from him when nothing could be further from the truth.

"What's going on?" Draco immediately asked, barely waiting for Hermione to be inside, before he closed the door behind her.

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

He scowled. "Something's going on, I don't like it."

She gaped and then she lifted a finger accusingly at him. "You _can_ read my mind! How else would you _know_!?"

"Don't be absurd," he scoffed. "If I could read your mind, why would I need to ask you what was going on? I'd know, wouldn't I?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "But you know _something_!"

"That's right," he said. "I do know something, and you're about to tell me the whole thing. Now."

She blushed. "It's sort of personal."

"I'll say," he mumbled, and then he frowned. "Is this thing working at all? I am _ordering_ you to tell me!"

"I was with Ron," she gritted out.

"Oh." He wrinkled his nose. "Ew. Being with Weasley gave you the warm and fuzzy feelings? What did he do?"

Hermione closed her eyes in mortification. "He kissed me," she whispered.

Draco's eyes widened and then he glared at the ring on his finger. This definitely was wrong. There were some things he'd rather not be privy to and Granger's feelings of pleasure at being snogged by the Weasel were _definitely_ among those things.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "You can't be doing that." He went to his chair and sat down.

Hermione's eyes flew open. "_What_?"

"You heard me," he said. "You won't be snogging Weasley while you're wearing that bracelet."

"But that's ridiculous!" she objected. "Do you really want me to be miserable that badly?"

Draco wearily rubbed his forehead. "As you guessed, Granger, I know more than I'd like to sometimes. It's quite nauseating to feel these things, so your lovesick Weasel will just have to wait."

"Feel…" Hermione mumbled, and then her eyes went wide. "It's my feelings! Of course, why didn't I see it before? You can sense my feelings, can't you? No wonder you're so good at making me miserable – you know just when you're doing it right!"

Draco rubbed his temple. "You're bloody annoying. Did you know that, Granger?"

"I'm also right, aren't I?" she asked with a triumphant grin. Then she frowned as she realized what she had just uncovered. "That's _so_ intrusive of you!"

"Believe me, Granger, I wish I didn't know," he assured her. "You have so many bloody emotions that it's exhausting to keep up with."

"Then don't," she exclaimed. "I don't want you to! Can't you turn it off?"

He shook his head with a long-suffering sigh. "I wish I could, I really do."

She crossed her arms and huffed. "Some trinket this is turning out to be. Poor women that have had it forced on them by their _husbands_."

Draco scowled. "It seems to me that women are always complaining that men can't guess their feelings – I'd say this thing solves that."

Hermione snorted. "It's the principle of the matter. I have _no_ privacy. You know if I'm angry, frustrated, happy or—" She broke off, her eyes widening and her face going beet red.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you knew when I was being kissed, didn't you?" she mumbled.

"Since it was made for wives, they weren't _supposed_ to be kissed by other men," he pointed out.

"No," Hermione said, shifting a bit on the spot, "but there are… other… things…"

He looked at her, uncomprehending. Ruling out kissing definitely also ruled out any "other things" that sprang to his mind.

"Never mind!" Her eyes were practically round and she was shaking her head furiously. "Just a thought, never mind."

Now Draco was feeling really curious. "No, tell me," he said. "I'm dying to know what has you so embarrassed."

"You would be," she grumbled. "But what would you be doing without cold showers?"

He blinked and glared at the apparent change of subjects, but then something clicked and he shot out of his chair. "_NONE_ of that, either!"

"You're telling me," she mumbled.

There was an awkward silence, where they both tried to digest the implications of this side-effect of the ring and bracelet.

"Dismissed," he finally choked and sat down to stare at his homework.

When he'd heard her leave, he ran his fingers through his hair and rested his forehead on the desk. He really didn't need these images that were currently running through his mind. And just why did she think he'd been taking a cold shower, anyway? He fervently hoped that she had no inkling of what had happened to him, how he'd felt, after he'd come back to find her sleeping in his bed that night.

* * *

The next day Draco had to be witness to a reconciled trio. It was nauseating. He was torn between wanting to try and tear them apart again and his own wish to avoid the despair from the ring. In the end, he decided that she could have her friends. If nothing else, her budding relationship with Weasley should discourage Theo. 

Nevertheless, he found the time between classes to take her aside and tell her to please cut the moony eyes, because it was making him sick to his stomach. She stuck out her tongue at him, but, of course, she had to obey.

He also couldn't resist trying to rub the supposed relationship he had with Granger in Weasley's face with subtle looks and smirks. It was quite fun, really, and Weasley was looking murderous before lunch. Granger oddly enough seemed less angry and tried to soothe Weasley. Draco had to wonder why Weasley would want a girl, who was supposedly sleeping with another person – a person he hated, even – but he ended up just drawing a blank. He'd never understand Gryffindors.

* * *

"You're a prick, you know that?" 

"Find a new song to sing, Granger, you're boring me."

Draco was half-heartedly trying to do some homework, while Hermione was inadvertently amusing him with her ranting.

"You didn't have to bait Ron all day!"

"No, I didn't have to, but I _really_ wanted to."

"Ugh… You're such a _prick_."

"Again, you're boring me."

He was really anything but bored. Apparently, she had decided to wait with taking exception to how he was treating Ron until she could tear into him privately. It was highly entertaining. It was also slightly interesting how she acted completely different towards him when he had her on her own. He had yet to determine whether this was a good thing or not.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're doing it just to make me miserable, aren't you? But it won't work. Ron and I have an understanding, there's nothing you can do to tear us apart!"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

Hermione blanched slightly and he had to hide a grin. He really had no interest in tearing them apart anymore, but, of course, he wasn't about to let her know that.

"You're really enjoying this!" she accused, making him straighten a bit and glance at her. "You just love playing God with my life, don't you?"

Oh, just that. He shrugged. "Of course I do, Granger. Who wouldn't?"

She crossed her arms, looking really stubborn. "Well, you can have your fun," she grumbled. "I don't care."

"Of course you care," he contradicted her. "That's what _makes_ it fun."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You're talkative today," she observed.

Draco leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as well. "You're the one that keeps talking, Granger."

"Yes, but you haven't told me to shut up!" She was challenging him with her gaze.

He grimaced slightly, trying to find a reply for that. "You're somewhat more entertaining than homework today," he finally said.

Hermione tilted her head slightly. "You're always doing homework. Nobody else does that much homework. Well, except me."

"Thanks for the reminder," he mumbled.

"Are you trying to beat me?" she asked. "Because, you know, you can't."

He scowled a bit. "Not everything is about you, Granger."

"Then why?"

"Why do you care?" he asked.

"I'm curious," she replied, stating the obvious. "You seem to be turning in more essays than anyone. Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe, if you had bothered to think about it, an answer would have come to you."

"Yes, well, maybe. But it's much easier to just ask you."

"I don't feel like having a heart-to-heart with you," he scoffed.

Hermione scrunched up her face. "If you tell me," she slowly said. "I'll tell Nott that you're treating me well when I see him tomorrow."

Draco stared incredulously at her. "I can just order you to do that!"

"Yes…" she conceded. "But you hadn't thought of it!"

"Well, now I have. You will tell Theo that I'm treating you well… if he asks. No need to bring it up if he doesn't."

She stuck out her tongue at him. This seemed to be a new habit of hers. "I'll think of something else," she said.

He just raised an eyebrow at her again.

"Oh, come on!" She all but stomped her foot. "Just tell me already. I won't tell anyone."

"Why would I tell you my secrets?" he asked. "The last thing I need is for you to have something on me."

"I wouldn't use it against you," Hermione immediately said. "I promise. On my honor. And how could I, anyway? It's just homework; the worst case scenario is that you're failing your classes or…" Her voice trailed off as he tensed.

Draco stared straight ahead and she shifted uncomfortably.

"You're failing your classes?" she quietly asked. "How can that be?"

For several seconds, she didn't think he'd answer. "I lost a year, Granger," he finally said. "I didn't care about school at all last year, because I was… thinking of other things." She remained quiet, not sure what to say and after a few seconds he actually went on. "It was a struggle to have them let me advance at all. You didn't wonder what happened to Crabbe and Goyle? Why they are in none of your classes, even though they're still somewhat around? They failed the test that I only just passed and they're doing sixth year again."

"Oh…" Hermione didn't really know how to respond to this. "But if you passed, why do you have to do all this extra work?"

"It was a condition they set. I have to learn everything from last year in order to ever be able to pass my NEWTs. Satisfied now?" He turned away from her, intent on ignoring her and getting on with his never-ending assignments.

"I could help you," she quietly offered.

He stiffened. "I don't need your help!" he harshly said. "I don't need your condescension. I'm not stupid. I might not be at the top of our class, but I lost a whole _year_, so I think I'm doing decently."

"I don't think you're stupid," Hermione objected. "I mean…" she hesitated as he glared at her, but then she stubbornly lifted her chin. "You put a lot of effort into tormenting me, and you can be quite brilliant in your own sick and twisted way. If you were to apply that to your studies you might _almost_ do as well as me."

He scowled at her, not deigning to answer.

Why was she complimenting him, anyway? It upset his world as he knew it and he didn't like it.

"Dismissed," he grumbled. "Your blabbering is distracting me."

* * *

Hermione let herself into the Heads' office while marveling at how easy today had been. She had so far had _both_ breakfast _and_ lunch and she'd been allowed to attend all of her classes without any funny business. Now it looked like she was even going to have her meeting with Nott without any interruptions. 

She was almost worried that Malfoy had fallen seriously ill.

"What's so funny?"

She looked up to find Nott watching her quizzically.

"Um, nothing," she replied. "I'm just in a good mood today."

"So, how is Malfoy treating you?"

_You will tell Theo that I'm treating you well if he asks._

Hermione pursed her lips. "He's treating me well. Exemplary, even. Like a_ queen_. No, wait, better than that, I'm sure."

"Ah," Nott said with an amused glint in his eyes. "I can see that he anticipated me asking. I'm glad you seem to have found your humor, though."

"He's not been bad lately," Hermione conceded. "I think he might be feeling unwell."

Nott smiled and Hermione couldn't help but giggle a little. Today was such a pleasantly _normal_ day.

"I haven't really seen you all week," Nott said. "It's quite odd considering that I have been keeping an eye out for you."

"Hmm, yes, isn't it?" Hermione said, hoping Nott would figure out the reason. She was, of course, still under the order to avoid him outside of meetings, and she wasn't allowed to tell him about it.

"I suspect that Draco might have something to do with that," Nott said. "But you can't tell me, can you?"

"Nope," Hermione said with a grin.

"Why are you laughing this time?"

"Because you're so smart!" she said. "I don't know why you're friends with people like Malfoy. You're almost _normal_, only, you know, smart in an almost creepy omniscient way."

Nott's eyes widened a fraction. "Creepy…" he mumbled. "That wasn't exactly what I was hoping to hear…"

Hermione covered her mouth with one hand as she realized how he'd taken it. "I didn't mean it like that," she hurried to reassure him. "It's just… you always seem to _know_ everything."

"Yes, that is the meaning of omniscient," he murmured. Hermione wasn't sure since Nott so rarely gave his feelings away, but she thought he looked slightly hurt.

That had not been her intention. He was, after all, a most rare and important ally. A friend, even. She winced.

He smiled slightly. "Don't fret, Granger, I'm not that easily offended."

She wasn't so sure that that was the truth, but she decided to let it slide. She didn't really know what else to do.

"So, what do I have to do?" she ventured.

"Nothing," he quietly said. "I figured that Draco might want to interfere, so, I hope you don't mind, but I sought out Patil, telling her that you needed some time off, and she's been helping me with the schedules and counseling of students. That is part of the reason why I tried to get a word with you this past week."

"Oh." She leaned against the conference table. "Then there's really no need to have this meeting and I should go to the dungeons…"

"No, please stay a while," he said, walking over to her. "I'm not likely to see you outside of our meetings, am I?"

She shook her head.

"It'll be over soon," he softly said as he reached her. "Just keep holding your head high and it'll be done in no time."

She smiled faintly. He made it all sound so easy.

She looked up and her heart skipped a beat, her lips parting in surprise, to find him standing so close.

What was this?

* * *

**Next chapter: **

**Hermione's eyes widened and her head whipped around to see Malfoy leaning against the doorframe. She was mortified at the thought of what he'd seen, but as his sardonic gaze fell on her, she was even more mortified to remember that he knew all of her feelings. He knew _exactly_ what she had just felt.**

**She hid her flaming face in her hands.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Dun dun dunnnn...**

* * *

The corner of Nott's mouth lifted slightly at Hermione's startled expression at finding him so close to her. 

"Don't fret," he quietly said. "I'm nothing to be afraid of."

Hermione's mouth snapped closed and she stood her ground and glared defiantly at him. "Why would I be afraid of you?"

"I don't know," Nott replied. "Some people fear my father and his connections to You-Know-Who."

Hermione snorted. "I was _at_ the Department of Mysteries when your father was taken," she pointed out. "It wasn't scary because there was one Death Eater. It was scary because there were many – and we were in their way."

Nott smiled. "That's right," he mumbled as if to himself. "I keep forgetting just who you are and what you've done. You're more brave than anyone here gives you credit for, aren't you?"

She shook her head. "I'm not brave. I was terrified the whole time."

"But you didn't run away."

"Of course I didn't. I had friends there, who needed my help."

He slowly nodded. "That's bravery. Not being scared would probably have been stupid, and you're anything but stupid. Yet, you chose to stay in spite of your fear, didn't you?"

Hermione glanced a little uncertainly at Nott. "Why are you praising me? Your father was sent to Azkaban that night."

Nott shrugged, looking for all the world as if he really didn't care. "My father belongs in Azkaban," he said. "He's not a good man."

"But he's your father," Hermione whispered, unable to comprehend this. Malfoy had been furious that _his_ father had been imprisoned because of them.

"He sired me, yes," Nott agreed. "But it's not something I'm feeling particularly grateful for."

"I am," Hermione shyly said. And she was. Having Nott as a friend really made her life so much easier these days.

Nott sucked in a harsh breath and stared at her for a few seconds. Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot, but she didn't falter, although she didn't dare meet his eyes.

"Hermione…" Nott said, and her head whipped up at his use of her given name.

His eyes searched hers, before his hand went up to caress her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat and then it started pounding fast and hard. She knew what his intention was, she knew that he was giving her time to back out, and she knew that she shouldn't be doing this just two days after kissing Ron.

Yet she had to. She wasn't quite sure why, but she had to see what it would feel like to let Nott kiss her. She felt the attraction and it was an attraction so unlike the one she felt to Ron that it was near impossible for her to compare them.

She wondered why she had never noticed that Nott was quite handsome in his own quiet, understated, bookish sort of way.

Finally, he bent his head to caress her lips. She clung to his shoulders, feeling weak-kneed at the mere contact, and he pinned her against the conference table and quickly deepened the kiss.

The kiss was nothing like Ron's, and it was confusing Hermione. Ron's kiss had been deeply moving, an emotional experience with a boy she had known and cared deeply for for a long time. Kissing Nott was less about knowing and more about getting to know. It was much more physical in a way, yet he wasn't pushing her or demanding anything. Every caress was asking her permission and every kiss was coaxing a response from her.

He made a sound that was a little like a growl in the back of his throat, and Hermione found herself lifted up so she was seated on the edge of the table. She was still clinging to him, but for entirely other reasons, and her head was thrown back, while he was exploring her neck with his lips.

Her heart was still pounding, but no longer with nervous anticipation. The kiss was thrilling her in a way that she had never thought possible. She felt both safe and treasured and dangerously wicked at the same time. It was almost like standing at the edge of a cliff and knowing that falling would be nothing to be afraid of. She was perched to jump.

There was a disturbance and Nott froze before he withdrew with an audible sigh.

"Hell of a timing, Draco," he said.

Hermione's eyes widened and her head whipped around to see Malfoy leaning against the doorframe. She was mortified at the thought of what he'd seen, but as his sardonic gaze fell on her, she was even more mortified to remember that he knew all of her feelings. He knew _exactly_ what she had just felt.

She hid her flaming face in her hands.

"Grand, now you've embarrassed the Head Girl," Nott remarked, not a trace of passion left in his voice.

"Good," Draco said. "She should be embarrassed. As should you. I'm sure that's not what the two of you were supposed to be doing."

"Why are you here?" Nott asked, quite unfazed.

Draco smirked a bit. "I had a feeling…" he said, deliberately drawing out the last word, "that perhaps you two weren't exactly working, so I thought I'd stop by and see."

"Now you've seen," Nott said. "Is it too much to hope that you will simply leave again?"

"Granger," Draco commanded, and Hermione hopped down from the desk, not quite looking at either boy. "Go to the dungeons."

She fled.

Nott sighed. "Did you have to do that?" he asked. "She'll be terrified of doing this again now."

"It's just as well," Draco admonished. "You can't just go around snogging people's slaves. It's… icky."

"I told you before that you can't control me. Granger didn't seem to mind, did she?"

Draco frowned. "No, apparently she usually doesn't," he mumbled. "I'd watch out for that one if I were you."

"What are you on about?"

Draco waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing. But if you want her to come here again, you'll put the snogging on hold until she's not wearing that bracelet. I _do_ still control _her_, and I don't care if she fulfills her Head Girl duties."

Nott scowled. "You're interfering."

"It's what I do best," Draco returned, before he turned and left.

* * *

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" 

Hermione's face heated once again as Draco angrily entered his room and slammed the door shut.

"I'm standing where you instructed?" she ventured.

"Don't give me that," he growled. "I thought I told you to cut all that snogging out!"

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You told me not to kiss _Ron_ and I didn't."

"So two days later you go for someone else? Hell of a show of fidelity, Granger."

She winced. She supposed he was sort of right, but it wasn't like that!

"I-I… I needed to see something," she mumbled.

"I don't know what you're up to, but you will stop it immediately. Theo _likes_ you for some unfathomable reason, and I actually don't want to have to tell him how _cheap_ and _easy_ you are."

Hermione glared at him. "I am _not_ cheap and easy and Nott won't believe your lies!"

"Kissing two boys in three days _is_ considered easy. At least here in Slytherin it is. Perhaps that's the way you do things up in Gryffindor, which would explain why Weasley doesn't mind sharing you, but down here we don't usually share."

She defiantly raised her chin. "You don't know what you're talking about, obviously."

"And I don't really care to be enlightened, either. I wonder what Weasley would say if I told him I caught you red-handed with Theo."

She blanched. Ron wouldn't believe Malfoy, of course, but, unless she was willing to lie to him, he'd be hurt. "_He_ kissed _me_," she weakly defended herself.

"And I know exactly how much you didn't mind. In fact, had you minded any less, I'm quite sure you would have been naked when I got there."

"Don't be so crude," she mumbled.

"Then enough with the smooching already!" he fairly shouted. "You will not kiss _or_ date again while you're wearing the bracelet, am I making myself clear? And you will especially stay away from Theo; he doesn't need to get involved with the likes of you!"

"Why are you being so protective of Nott?" she asked, feeling bewildered. "He's a big boy and he's one of your lot, after all. I doubt he's taking this very seriously."

"I told you already that he likes you," Draco snarled. "I don't remember the last time he openly liked someone. Too bad for him that it has to be _you_. If he had to go and give up his pureblood ideals, he could at least have started liking someone decent."

Hermione pondered this for a second. "If it's true that he doesn't care about those precious ideals of yours, wouldn't that make him a blood traitor in the eyes of you and your house? What are you doing with him, then?"

Draco took two angry steps forward, making Hermione jump back, before he seemingly could control himself enough to stop. His hands were fisted at his sides and he closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm a bit.

"He's_ Theo_," he finally bit off. "He's my friend and I respect his reasons. Call him a blood traitor again and I swear I will forget myself and make you regret that you ever looked at, let alone talked to, a pureblood."

Hermione gaped. She would never have thought she'd see the day when Draco Malfoy defended someone who _would_ technically be classified as a blood traitor by his own kind.

"I'm… sorry?" she hesitantly said.

He didn't look or sound very mollified. "Come to think of it, you've only been going after purebloods, haven't you? Trying to whore your way to some respectability, are you? Well, it won't work. It never does. You'll still be nothing but a Mudblood." He turned his back on her, sitting down at his desk, without waiting for her reaction.

Hermione gasped at the insult. She had never once considered blood status in any of this and she wasn't _whoring_ her way anywhere. She didn't deserve all this derision! And Malfoy hadn't actually called her a Mudblood or been truly mean to her since the incident where he had forced her to lie to her friends four days ago.

Come to think of it, that was sort of odd in itself. It had been four very long days with lots of opportunity for derision. This realization startled her into a state of thoughtfulness.

"Get over it!" Draco none too gently suggested without turning around.

"I _am_ over it," she informed him.

"Good."

"Now it's time for _you_ to get over it."

"What?" he forgot himself enough to turn and stare incredulously at her.

"So I kissed your precious Nott and I'm not sure what it means. Big deal! Nott can take care of himself and he's not naïve enough to think that _one_ kiss is a declaration of my undying devotion. I think you're putting more stock in this than he is, and I'm sure that if he were here right now, he'd tell you to stay out of it."

"Would he, now?" Draco said in a dangerously gentle voice.

"Of course he would," Hermione scoffed. "He doesn't need you to protect him. He can handle one little Muggleborn witch, don't you think?"

"You can't date him," Draco calmly said. "You can't kiss him, touch him, talk to him, or even look at him without there being a very good reason – pre-approved by me. You can in no way let him know that this is my doing and if he manages to corner you about it, you will do your best to convince him that it's simply because you do not want him. Your _best_, Granger. No half-hearted attempts laced with hints."

Hermione's mouth had slowly been falling open, but at his last words it snapped shut. "How will that help?" she demanded. "Wouldn't that be doing exactly what you claim to want to protect him from? I think it's just because you can't handle the idea of one of your friends actually being with _me_."

"It will protect him," Draco said. "It will protect him from seriously falling for you just to have you kiss yet another bloke the next time you can't make up your mind. The fact that you won't be dating any of my friends is merely a bonus."

"This is absurd!"

"No, what's absurd is that those boys _want_ to touch _you_."

She scowled at him but didn't reply. He turned his back on her again and ignored her for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

The next day when Hermione was about to have lunch, she was stopped right inside the Great Hall by Draco. This, in itself, was a very bad omen. He usually stopped her outside in order to be not actually _seen_ with her. Apparently, it was ok for people to think that she was running after him and he was using her in his room on a daily basis as long as they weren't _publicly_ associated with each other. 

It was a special brand of Malfoy logic, so she didn't really question it.

He was now scanning the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, apparently taking in who was present. Hermione followed his gaze and swallowed as she realized that just about everyone was there. What was he going to make her do?

His lips twitched and she was once again reminded that he was aware of her feelings. How she hated this.

"Don't go to your table," he said, and Hermione resigned herself to the fact that she was about to miss lunch. Well, as far as orders went, it was pretty mild.

She was about to turn and leave, when he stopped her again, this time smirking unpleasantly at her.

"Go to the Slytherin table."

Hermione's eyes widened and she blinked. "W-what?"

"You seem to have developed a fondness for Slytherins lately, haven't you? So I think you should eat at our table. Just not near me. Or Theo, of course."

She hadn't quite realized how even eating near Malfoy might afford her some protection until he disabused her of the notion of doing so. She scanned the Slytherin table until her eyes fell on Zabini.

"Yeah, you'll leave Blaise alone as well," Draco added. "And make sure to eat a full meal!"

Then he left her to her gruesome fate.

* * *

**Until next time...**

**"What do _you_ want, Malfoy?" she hissed. "Come to enjoy the show, have you?"**

**"I don't see your friends about," he harshly retorted. "Are they so stupid that they don't realize you might be in trouble, or do they simply not care?"**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hehe, Theo love is fun. The only thing that bothers me is when some of you say that Draco has no redeemable qualities whatsoever. He may not be a very nice person (okay, he's plain mean) and Theo is CERTAINLY a better love interest at this point, but if you think Draco has nothing to redeem him... Well, you need to wake up and smell real life. He could be much, much, _much_ worse. He has tons of qualities that make him redeemable, he's just fighting them. There is no such thing as pure evil. (and yes, Marilyn already launched me into a discussion about Hitler, let's refrain from that, shall we? It doesn't really compare here)**

* * *

"Don't you think you're being a little cruel?" Blaise asked. 

He was looking at Hermione, who had obediently sat down at the Slytherin table to eat. In an effort to avoid the worst of the Slytherin mockery, she had sat down among some first years. This worked fairly well for about thirty seconds, since the children didn't quite know what to make of the much older Gryffindor Mudblood Head Girl, but then they all decided that they would rather not be associated with her and vacated the table, leaving her sitting alone. This wouldn't have been all that bad, either, except some fifth and sixth year bullies then took it upon themselves to give her an extremely hard time.

Draco was ignoring the whole thing.

"She deserves it," was all he said.

Blaise glanced at the Gryffindor table, where people were also staring and scowling at Hermione. It was just two days before the annual Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match, which made her apparent solidarity with the Slytherins close to unforgivable.

Truthfully, he felt a little sorry for her.

"I can't imagine what she could have done to deserve this," he mumbled. "Come now, Draco, haven't you done enough to her for today?"

"No." Draco didn't really feel the need to elaborate.

Theo frowned from the other side of the table. "You can't keep punishing her for what you saw yesterday, Draco," he said.

"Can't I?" Draco neutrally asked.

Theo sighed. "I'm going to sit by her." He got up.

"You do that and I will do something twice as bad to her tomorrow," Draco calmly said, hardly looking up.

Theo slowly sat down again, clearly not liking being thwarted like this. "What can you possibly do that's worse than having food 'accidentally' dropped all over her by our housemates and having her own housemates treating her like a traitor?"

"Go down there and you'll find out," Draco coolly replied.

Blaise was looking from one to the other with a pained expression on his face.

"Are we fighting?" he asked.

He was ignored by both of them.

"If Pansy were to find out why Granger is being punished, she might get the wrong idea," Theo casually pointed out.

"Turn Pansy against me and you'll _really_ force my hand with Granger."

"It's easy for you to get your way with threats when you have a powerless girl to abuse, isn't it?" Theo quietly asked.

"Really?" Draco asked, looking up. "Because I've yet to see it working to my satisfaction. It's impossible to get between her and her friends, but she seems to be getting between us just fine."

"You're wrong," Theo replied. "She isn't doing anything – that's all you."

"Whoa," Blaise interrupted. "It seems we _are_ fighting and I'm not even sure why!"

"Stay out of this, Blaise," Draco said.

"If it's because of Granger, she's not really that important," Blaise persisted. "So why not just drop it?"

"That's not what you said when you claimed that getting her sick would get the Order to kick out my mother," Draco sneered.

Blaise winced. "I just don't want you to cross the line," he muttered.

"She'll live," Draco curtly said.

"Why is it so important for you to hurt her?" Theo asked. "Isn't it enough to have her run errands for you and stand to attention in your room every day like some house elf? Do you _have_ to spread malicious rumors and force her into positions like this where she's clearly making enemies of our entire House not to mention her own?"

He gestured towards Hermione and Blaise's gaze followed the motion and he winced again as someone 'accidentally' knocked a glass of pumpkin juice into Hermione's lap and jostled her, as she tried to right herself, to everyone's great mirth. He quickly glanced towards the High Table to see that the few teachers present were consumed with their own conversations or food and didn't notice a thing.

Draco dropped his cutlery with a loud clank and got up. "You both disgust me!" he growled. "I'm the only one with any sense left!"

"It's not sense, Draco," Theo said. "You know it's not."

Draco didn't reply, but just walked out without a second glance at either his friends or Granger.

* * *

Draco didn't actually go back to the dungeons. He waited outside in the Entrance Hall. 

He wasn't stupid; he knew that some people might take their taunting of the Head Girl too far, considering how tense the House relations were this time of year. Her status offered her little protection when she was provoking the Slytherins in this manner. He was still seething with anger at Granger's impudence, not to mention his friends' newfound protective streaks, but, in spite of everything, he had better not let this go too far. He wasn't exactly sure if it was in violation of the contract, but he wasn't really interested in violence either way.

His predictions soon enough came true, as he saw Hermione hurry out of the Great Hall, closely followed by six Slytherin brutes, Crabbe and Goyle among them. Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead. This might prove a tad unpleasant.

She had brandished her wand as they caught up with her, but there was no way that she could hex all of them and she must know this. She looked like she'd put up one hell of a fight, though.

"Finally, Granger," Draco said, coming forward. "I thought you'd take all day… Why are you wearing your food? And what's this? More beaus of yours?"

"What do _you_ want, Malfoy?" she hissed. "Come to enjoy the show, have you?"

"I don't see your friends about," he harshly retorted. "Are they so stupid that they don't realize you might be in trouble, or do they simply not care?"

"Are you going to join or what, Malfoy?" Harper, one of the sixth years, asked.

Draco coldly pinned him with a gaze. "She's mine; I've come to collect her. Thanks for keeping an eye on her for me."

"She's_yours?_" Crabbe asked. "You've become a right blood traitor lately, haven't you?"

Draco sneered. "Haven't you heard, you idiot? She belongs to me. She's my willing slave. What good will she do me if you lot send her to the hospital wing?"

He reached out and yanked Hermione by her wrist from between his considerably burlier housemates. Too confused to really react, she just stumbled along.

"Hurry," he hissed in a low voice. "Move, before their brains start working."

They turned back towards the entrance to the Great Hall, since they were both quite unwilling to have to go through the group of brutes. Draco might be protected by his name, money and status, but he didn't believe in taking unnecessary risks or tempting fate. After no more than ten steps, however, Draco abruptly stopped, letting go of Hermione's wrist.

Hermione looked up to find Harry and Ron standing there, arms folded, wands still in their hands, as they stared at the scene before them.

"I suppose your friends came after all," Draco muttered.

"Of course they did," Hermione haughtily replied.

"Right…" Draco wrinkled his nose, realizing that he hadn't needed to pull her out of there. She had been perfectly safe all along. "I just remembered that I'd rather cast an Entrail-Expelling Curse on myself than talk to you people," he announced, and, without another word, he turned away from the Gryffindors and left for the dungeons.

Hermione was left alone to explain to her friends just why Draco Malfoy had saved her from his own housemates. The silence stretched.

"It was his fault in the first place," she finally blurted out.

"We gathered that," Harry replied. "We didn't actually think it was your idea to sit at their table."

They all fell silent again. Other students were beginning to file out from the Great Hall, signaling that classes would start soon. Hermione really needed to go change her robes. _Tergeo_ had not proven as effective in removing the mess those bullies had made as she would have hoped.

"We have an agreement," she explained. He'd never told her that she couldn't tell anyone about this part of the contract. "It says he mustn't be responsible for any violence done to me." It didn't really say that, but she supposed it was a matter of interpretation. "I think he figured they were about to become violent."

"He would have to be a bloody moron not to figure that!" Ron hoarsely replied, still staring at Hermione.

"Why do you have an agreement with him?" Harry asked. "Why do you _need_ to have an agreement with him?"

"I…" Hermione was looking for words.

"She can't say," Ron supplied. "Seems like Malfoy has got something on her, doesn't it?"

Harry scratched his head. "But why would he willingly agree to protect her, if he's got something on her?"

"I'm still here!" Hermione interjected.

"Are you going to contribute to the discussion?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed and shook her head.

Harry didn't look surprised. "It seems that for all intents and purposes, Hermione is doing what he says _willingly_, and in exchange, he has offered her the protection of a… well, an agreement."

"But that doesn't make sense," Ron grumbled. "Why would she do that? I _don't_ believe the rumors and I refuse to believe what she's saying as well. He has to be forcing her to lie somehow, he has to."

He looked Hermione straight in the eye and her heart warmed at his vote of confidence.

"Indeed," Harry mused. "It's hard to see what Hermione gets out of this. She isn't the type to blindly run after someone, humiliating herself for his attention, as he would have us believe. Besides, I hardly see her running after _him_."

"Should I even be here for this discussion?" Hermione finally asked, feeling rather amused with the two of them.

"Be quiet, Hermione," Ron said without any force. "But why is she doing it then? Why is she allowing him to control her? If you say that he isn't in some way forcing her, I don't see why."

"Well, we can't rule out some amount of force," Harry conceded. "But I believe that she perhaps made a deal with him."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. She wasn't sure why they were having this discussion in front of her. Perhaps they hoped to be able to read her responses or perhaps they just wanted to let her know that they didn't take anything Malfoy said at face value. That thought warmed her; she had the best friends in the world. They never seemed to stop believing in her, no matter what she did.

"A deal with him?" Ron skeptically asked. "Where he's allowed to spread lies about her and abuse and humiliate her – just not in a violent way?"

"Yes, I wonder what she got out of it," Harry mumbled to himself.

So close and yet so far away. Hermione sighed.

"I have to go change," she said. "I _bet_ that nobody ever had this much food spilled on them in _wizarding history_."

She hurried off, not really believing they'd get the hint or know what to do with it, but congratulating herself for trying.

* * *

The next day was Friday, but more importantly, it was the day before the big Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match. Tensions were really at their peak today. Hermione's popularity had greatly suffered from her sitting at the Slytherin table for lunch the day before, and only when she was with Ron and Harry was she feeling like she'd get through this. Fortunately for her, they didn't show any signs of wanting to leave her side. 

Unfortunately for her, in the afternoon they _had_ to leave her side, in order to go have their last-minute Quidditch practice. She would have come with and have watched them, only, Harry quietly told her that it wasn't such a good idea. The whole team was on edge and having her there would only incite them.

So, basically, she was left to her own devices.

When the time came for her to go to Draco's room, where he would at least be the _only_ one scowling at her, she had barely entered before he told her that she had the day off and to go back to her common room. He seemed twitchy. Edgy, even. She would have thought that he would want to take his anxieties about the upcoming match out on her, but, apparently, he'd rather be alone.

So, she went to her room and decided to stay there for the rest of the day.

* * *

She woke to a summons at 1.30 a.m. So much for having the day off. She quickly got up and got dressed, not taking the time to properly wake up, since she knew from experience that in a few minutes the clamoring inside her head would be almost unbearable. 

This time, she made sure to remember her socks and even shoes.

When she finally presented herself yawning to her apparently never-sleeping 'master', she expected him to complain about her being late again. He didn't. He hardly even acknowledged her as he was writing on something, probably more schoolwork.

"Did you need me or are you just bothering me?" she asked him, yawning again.

"You should know the answer to that by now," he replied. "You can sit down, but no falling asleep and no shoes on my bed, either."

Hermione rolled her eyes but sat down on the edge of the bed just the same.

"Why do you never sleep?" she asked.

"I sleep," he replied. "I just have other things on my mind sometimes."

"Ah. Like Quidditch."

"For instance," he vaguely agreed.

"And homework."

"Could be."

"How to get back into Pansy's good graces." She leaned back against the bedpost and briefly closed her eyes. She was so tired.

His lips twitched. "Never had to lose sleep over that one."

"And maybe guilt over your abominable treatment of the Head Girl."

He snorted. "Yes, that's sure to be it."

Hermione couldn't help but grin. "I knew it!"

Draco shot a glance at her. "You don't seem very upset about yesterday."

Her face grew shuttered. "For a whole minute, I think I had actually forgotten about it."

"If you promise not to try and find a way around my orders regarding Theo, I won't force you to do that again."

"But there's a world of other things you can do, isn't there?" she grumbled.

"True, but I could also force you to eat every meal at the Slytherin table for the next two weeks."

"You could also just say please."

"You wouldn't do it just because I said please."

"No, but it would be nicer."

He sighed wearily. "Why would I be nice to you, Granger? It would sort of defeat the purpose, don't you think? Just give me your word about Theo and then you might live through tomorrow."

The irony was that Hermione for the most part didn't think he was being_ not_ nice to her when she was in his room these days. He only really got mean lately if he felt provoked by her. Of course, his acting out like a spoiled child in those instances didn't exactly promote a desire in her to be his bosom buddy, but he was for the most part talking to her as if she were a human being.

She probably shouldn't point that out.

"Fine, I promise," she sighed. "You're a real meddler, you know that?"

He ignored her last statement. "Good," he said. "I'm glad we understand each other."

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at his back.

"And another thing," he said. "I've been meaning to ask you, but I forgot between you snogging half of Hogwarts, extra essays and Quidditch…"

"What?" she asked, resigned to the fact that Ron and Nott now constituted half of their school.

"Why_ did_ you draw your wand on your friends to protect me last Saturday?"

* * *

**All right, next time...**

**"You shouldn't have pushed me," he coolly said.**

**"So, as a punishment you make me wear a scarf? That has to be a new one," she half-joked, still unable to allow herself to think.**

**"Come now, Granger," he said. "You're so smart. You must have figured out what I would make you do ages ago."**

**"No, I definitely hadn't thought about scarves," she said, panic edging her voice**.


	26. Chapter 26

**Today is Valentine's Day, so Happy V-Day! ****So, this weekend I was a bit ho—uh... in desperate need of attention from my boyfriend. Alas, for physiological reasons, this urge was thwarted. TMI? Well… grin Maz urges me to assure you all that the "physiological reasons" had nothing to do with _him_, by the way. Just so that is clear. So, I decided to sit down and write something. A PWP. Oh, boy. Anyway, I seem to have a problem with the –WP part of this concept and my betas claim that it is indeed _not_ a P W P, so I will have to bend to their will and offer you this one-shot, which is based on smut without a real storyline. Which is not a PWP. But it happens to be 12.5k words long. I'm not sure how that happened, but these things always happen to me. It was written at the expense of sleep and homework in order to get it ready for today, so if you appreciate my hard work (not to mention the smut in this _non_-PWP), do be sure to tell me. Oh, and of course it's Dramione. Sorry, dears. No Theo this time around. It is NC-17, of course, as if you could not figure that one out. And in spite of it being Valentine's Day, there is no fluff. I repeat: this is not a fluff-piece. It is not angst either. It's a _non_-PWP, dammit. One additional warning, though: Dubious Consent. Someone might not be who someone else thinks they are… if you have a problem with that, don't bother going off to read it. It's called _In The Darkness All Cats Are Grey_, because it's a Danish proverb and the English equivalent… well… sucks. I like the Danish one. You people need better imagery in your proverbs. And just to be extra evil – or nice, whichever – here is the next chapter of The Bracelet at the same time. I apologize for this long note and I will shut up now.**

**Anyway, you won't find this piece here on ffnet, simply because I find that too many children ignore the "M"-Rating. In order to read it go to Granger Enchanted, Quiet Ones, affnet or, eventually when it's validated, Coloured Grey. If you do not know the urls to any of these places, check my profile. Seriously, while I will still keep my older and more mature works up here, I do not like children reading them. **

* * *

Hermione gaped. This was an unexpected question to pop up a week later.

'_Why did you draw your wand on your friends to protect me last Saturday?'_

"It… wasn't like that," she mumbled, trying to gather her thoughts.

"What was it like then?" Draco politely asked.

He was scribbling something on a piece of parchment, his back turned to her. He hardly seemed like the answer really interested him that much. He halted his writing, frowned slightly and mumbled to himself, before jotting down whatever conclusion he had reached.

"When is it due?" Hermione asked.

"Two hours before the game," he absent-mindedly responded.

"So it _is_ homework keeping you awake, then?"

"No, I could do it in the morning, but might as well do something with my time."

"What is it about?"

He halted and half-turned to look at her. "My paper is none of your concern and I did not forget that I asked you a question that you have yet to answer."

Oh, snap.

Hermione shrugged. "Two against one wouldn't have been fair odds."

He snorted. "That won't wash. Some might say I was provoking them and you might even go as far as claiming that I was expecting the attack and was ready for it."

"Yeah right," she said, crossing her arms. "That's why you banged your head when I pushed you aside. Because you were _ready_."

"I was ready for _them_ to attack, not _you_," he clarified. "And thanks for the headache, by the way."

"You're welcome," she quipped.

"It's funny how you're trying to talk circles around me. Do I really need to order a reply from you?"

She looked pensive. "I didn't even think about that. How come I don't have to answer you?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're so bloody annoying, you know that? It works on intent and I was just asking, not ordering a reply. I suppose sometimes one says something one doesn't really mean to one's spouse, which makes it safer for it to work on intent than just words. Now, your turn: Why did you point your wand at Potter and Weasley?" His voice had gotten a sharp edge and now Hermione felt the pull that had been absent before.

She hesitated. "It seemed to be the only truly effective way to stop them. I didn't want to draw my wand, but at that point, just dragging them away as usual wouldn't have worked, since they believed me to… that is to say… um… they thought I might be partial to you."

"So your way of disproving that was to draw your wand in my defense? I hate to say it, Granger, but I don't think it worked."

Hermione's cheeks got a pink tinge. "It stopped them, didn't it?" she defended herself. "And you were out to separate me from them anyway, so I figured it wouldn't matter what I did. I have a lot to explain after the bet is over, anyway."

"It still doesn't explain why you wanted to stop them in the first place."

"Don't you think there's enough violence in the world these days without adding petty schoolyard squabbles here at Hogwarts?" she asked in a heated voice. "Isn't it enough that we have to fight Death Eaters and werewolves and Voldemort himself? Do we really need to fight each other? I don't actually know what side you're on, but at least you didn't commit murder, when they told you to. Besides, this whole thing – the things you're doing to me – is nothing compared to what's happening outside, in the _real_ world."

He looked blindsided by her passionate statement and for a moment he didn't reply. Finally he softly said, "Ok."

Hermione blinked. As far as answers went, that was pretty short and neutral. "Ok," she mumbled, settling back as she realized there wasn't going to be an argument.

The corner of his mouth drew up. "You thought I was going to fight you on it?" he asked in an amused voice. "I should think that it was obvious I didn't like the violence I brought to the school last year."

"Yet you'll still fight Harry," she pointed out. "And for no good reason, too."

"That's different," he muttered. "Potter sliced me open."

"And you were innocent as a lamb, I'm sure," Hermione drily said.

"I hate Potter and I always will. The only people I hate more than him are You-Know-Who and Fenrir Greyback and that's probably because I also _fear_ them." He said this matter-of-factly without a trace of shame at admitting to his fear. "I'm not afraid of Potter and I don't think he's as good as everyone thinks he is, but for the sake of my poor, abused head, I won't try to use the bet to incite him again."

"Don't we have a clause against that anyway?" she mumbled, frowning as she tried to remember the exact wording of the contract.

"It only says that I can't incite people in an effort to get someone expelled. You should have chosen your words more carefully if you meant it more generally."

She studied him. He was going to lay off her friends? Why? She voiced her question, "Why not continue to taunt Harry?"

He shot her an irritated glance. "You nearly maimed me last time."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so lame."

"No," he returned. "But I probably will be if you choose to _save_ me from violence again."

"That's the worst reason I ever heard," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Could it be that you're actually trying the _being nice_ thing that everyone's talking about?" She grinned, knowing that she shouldn't provoke him, but unable to stop just the same.

He shot to his feet and turned to her with a growl. "You just can't leave well enough alone, can you, Granger? Your reason for wanting to avoid fighting just happened to be one I could respect. The last people I would feel an inclination to be _nice_ to would be _you_ and your _friends_. Come tomorrow, you won't doubt that anymore. Dismissed."

Yanking his chair back from where it had been pushed as he got up, he sat back down and ignored her as she left.

As Hermione walked back to her room, she couldn't help the foreboding feeling that tomorrow's Quidditch match might not be the most fun she would ever have.

* * *

Hermione considered attempting to hide from Draco, but she knew it would be futile. In spite of being caught up in the big game and having the pressure of wanting to make his last Quidditch match against Gryffindor count, he wouldn't be too preoccupied to torment her. He never was.

She supposed it was a matter of priorities.

She had spent the better part of the morning reading, but as time drew nearer for the match, she checked out the books that she needed for an Arithmancy project she was doing, and hurried towards the stairs that would lead her to the Gryffindor tower.

Her mind being elsewhere, she was hardly noticing the people around her, until someone quite forcefully bumped into her and brought his hand down on her books, shoving them from her hands onto the floor. She was startled by the deliberation with which she had been targeted and she didn't really register who had done it, only that people were jeering. In fact, she noticed both Slytherins and Gryffindors laughing.

_At least I'm promoting house unity_, she wryly thought as she sighed and crouched down to collect her books from the floor, trying hard to ignore the lump in her throat. So far her seventh year had been horrible, laced with humiliation and spite. She couldn't wait for it to be over.

"Don't mind them," a voice said as someone crouched down in front of her and helped her gather her things. "I think it's horrible how they're treating you. I wish that I could make them stop, but nobody really listens to a nobody like me in these matters."

Hermione blinked as she recognized the shy, dark-haired boy talking to her: Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff, her usually very quiet partner in Transfiguration. He was also the boy, she had seen whispering with Megan Jones behind her back in Charms, so who was he trying to fool? He was just like the rest of them.

"Why do you care?" she coolly asked as she got to her feet.

He rose with her and blinked, looking a bit confused and hurt at her dismissive tone. "I… I just…I thought…" he stuttered, a blush creeping across his face. "I'm sorry," he finally mumbled and rushed off, avoiding her gaze.

Hermione felt a pang of guilt. He had just been trying to encourage her, after all.

"The Head Girl's famous charms," another, very unwelcome, voice said. "You practically sent that one running, didn't you? You could give lessons."

Hermione fixed her best death glare on Draco. "What do _you_ want?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, ignoring her question, "it's better than you snogging him, which seems to be the only other option available with you these days."

"Don't you have a game to play?" she asked, scowling at him.

Perhaps he'd be so busy with his taunts that he forgot to do anything horrible before he had to go change. Now, there was a cheering thought.

"Yes, I do, in fact," he jovially said, rousing Hermione's suspicions. "And you'll be watching, of course." It wasn't a question.

"Of course," she muttered. "I'll be wanting to watch my friends beat you like they do every year, won't I?"

He just smiled blithely and she _knew_, then, that he was up to something. She would really prefer not to find out what it was.

"Excuse me," she mumbled and quickly began walking away from him.

He allowed her to take a few steps, before he called out, "Not so fast!"

Hermione's heart sank. What nefarious scheme had he come up with?

She slowly turned around and he threw something at her that she instinctively caught with her free hand. She looked down, all her thoughts freezing in denial, as she recognized the Slytherin scarf for what it was. She refused to consider what it meant, though.

"You shouldn't have pushed me," he coolly said.

"So, as a punishment you make me wear a scarf? That has to be a new one," she half-joked, still unable to allow herself to think.

"Come now, Granger," he said. "You're so smart. You must have figured out what I would make you do ages ago."

"No, I definitely hadn't thought about scarves," she said, panic edging her voice.

"You'll be standing in the Gryffindor stands, mostly because I don't want murder on my hands, but also because it will be fun to see you among your friends, cheering for Slytherin."

"I thought you said you didn't want murder on your hands," she hoarsely said.

"They won't harm you," he said. "Although, I'd stick to public places for the rest of the year if I were you. Especially if we win this year, which I have every intention of making happen."

"Please, Malfoy…" she whispered.

He made a disgusted sound. "Are you going to beg again?"

"Yes!" she said, not trying to hide her desperation. "There must be some way to make you drop this! I'll do anything!"

He smirked unpleasantly. "I can already _make_ you do whatever I wish you to do and, besides, you're lying. You just want me to relent so you don't have to do anything unpleasant at all."

"This is more than _unpleasant_," she hissed. "This is plain sadistic. I'm not lying. I could… could…" She clearly searched for something that could sway him. "I could promise you that I won't encourage Nott, even after the bet is over," she choked. "You want that, don't you?"

His eyes turned cold. "You really are fickle, aren't you?" he sneered. "Ready to give Theo up at the first sign of something unpleasant happening to you. You make me sick. No, I will not accept that promise, since it would mean nothing to you. You'd still have Weasley and who knows who else."

Hermione's eyes widened. He really thought very little of her, didn't he? It was true that she was slightly confused at the moment, torn between her old, safe crush on Ron and her new more exciting attraction to Nott. She was so far unable to figure out if she really could see herself with Ron, or if she had just begun taking it for granted because of the deep affection she felt, and always would feel, for him as a friend.

Malfoy, however, made it sound as if she was some slut, who'd encourage any boy that came on to her. It bothered her, but she knew that he wouldn't care if she tried to explain, so why even try? She sighed, defeated.

"Here's what I want, then," he said, walking closer to her and lowering his voice. "You never tell those loser friends of yours about the bet or let them know that nothing happened between us. Instead, you will enforce the lie in any way you can. In short, Weasley goes to his grave believing that his…" He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he was looking for words. "_Chaste_ and _faithful_ little Mudblood was sullied by my touch."

Hermione gaped. She could never do that.

"You see," Draco lowered his voice even more and stepped closer. "He might try to act as if he doesn't care, but he does, and it will eat away at him until he can't bear to even look at you anymore. To know that you knew he was in love with you, yet you chose to sleep with someone who doesn't care whether you live or die instead. How long has he been waiting for you? Do you think he'd hoped to be your first?"

The last bit hit her on a level that he couldn't even know about. She clenched her jaw and looked away, so he wouldn't notice the new shininess to her eyes.

"You know I can't agree to this," she bit out.

"Then stop saying you'll do anything," he coldly said. "I hate melodramatic women. This is just a school Quidditch match; it will be very unpleasant for a while, but it will hardly ruin your life."

He walked away and she was left to stare at the Slytherin scarf in her hands.

* * *

**And then there's Quidditch...**

**She had no idea who had won. Both Draco and Harry had suddenly spotted something and had started diving for it. There had been a roar from the audience. She had called out the name that she didn't really want to root for. And then… the two of them had hit the ground; Harry first, Draco toppling on top of him. They had been still for a few seconds and then Draco rolled to the side. They were panting heavily and were, for the most part, unmoving.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hullo. How are yous? Good, good. I now bring you... Quidditch match. There was something I wanted to say up here but I forgot it. I really should write these things down. I do realize that some of you are getting frustrated by my lack of Dramione action, but really. If _you_ were Hermione, how would you feel about Draco right about now? And I do believe that some of you have forgotten that before Draco gained complete power, she was pretty much being a bitch to him too. Draco hasn't forgotten that.**

* * *

The game was surreal. 

Hermione was trapped in a dreamlike state, unable to process anything happening as actually happening to her. This was a nightmare that she would be sure to wake up from soon. Any minute now, she would open her eyes and be back in her bed. It wasn't her wearing the Slytherin scarf to the Gryffindor stands. It wasn't her people hissed at. It wasn't she, who was cheering when the Slytherin team entered the pitch, earning a reproachful look from Professor McGonagall herself.

It certainly wasn't she who cried out encouragement as one of the Slytherin Chasers sent the Quaffle straight for the hoops just above her. It wasn't her voice Ron recognized, distracting him so he turned and stared down at her instead of blocking the hoop, leaving the Quaffle a clear path to fly right past him.

Slytherin ten points, Gryffindor nil.

Hermione was mortified. Or she would have been, if she could just shake this feeling that this wasn't real.

Draco was hovering close and was grinning at Ron's clear confusion, but not for long; he still had a job to perform, a Snitch to catch.

This was the last thing Hermione could clearly remember afterwards.

She was going through the motions, but somehow she wasn't there. It was a mercy, really, to not hear, see or feel her housemates reacting to her changed allegiance. It was an even greater mercy to not register her friends' reactions. She didn't know if Harry and Ginny had even noticed her, but she assumed they had. She was a speck of green and silver in a sea of red and gold. She also absent-mindedly registered that Gryffindor scored many more goals than Slytherin, Ron having taken up his position as a Keeper with a vengeance, nearly perfectly blocking the hoops.

Suddenly the game was over and the fog lifted a bit.

She had no idea who had won. Both Draco and Harry had suddenly spotted something and had started diving for it. There had been a roar from the audience. She had called out the name that she didn't really want to root for. And then… the two of them had hit the ground; Harry first, Draco toppling on top of him. They had been still for a few seconds and then Draco rolled to the side. They were panting heavily and were, for the most part, unmoving.

It had gone dark a while ago, but the pitch itself was somewhat lit, making it possible to identify the two, currently grounded, Seekers. Neither, however, showed any sign of having caught the Snitch and there were some confused mutterings from the spectators.

Then Harry slowly got up to his hands and knees, while Draco remained unmoving. The teams were hovering anxiously above them, while the audience had gone perfectly still. Madam Hooch had by now reached them both and was apparently making inquiries to their general health and the Snitch. Harry showed his hands to be empty, causing the Gryffindors and most non-Slytherins to groan in disappointment. On the ground a grin was spreading on Draco's face as he lifted his arm and showed the small golden ball, firmly caught in his hand.

The Slytherins cheered wildly and Hermione was forced to join them in doing so, as the score was announced. Slytherin had won with a score of 180 to 100 – the Gryffindors had put up a valiant fight, but for the first time since Harry's first year as a Seeker, they had lost to their Slytherin counterparts.

Hermione was confused, though. Harry had hit the ground first, so he must clearly have reached the Snitch first. Why hadn't _he_ been the one to catch it? She didn't understand, but she didn't have time to analyze this turn of events. The Slytherin team had won and she had to get out of there before she was made a scapegoat by some of the less forgiving people in her House. Nobody would openly hex the Head Girl, not here in front of the teachers, but she needed to go find a peaceful place to hide until she could be fairly sure that everyone had gone to bed.

If she didn't, then she was fairly sure she'd receive some heavy emotional, if not physical, scarring.

She ducked under the stands and made a mad dash back to the castle, grateful that the dark was shielding her.

* * *

"You ran away." 

Hermione huddled more into herself under the tree where she was currently sitting. She had quickly decided that there would be no safe place within the castle, so she had found this place near the lake. Nobody would willingly be spending time out here in November, especially not on the night after a big game.

"Does the ring tell you where I am, too?" she tonelessly asked, not even looking up at the boy who had spoken.

"As a matter of fact, it does," Draco replied.

"Of course it does," she mumbled.

"I could have summoned you," he pointed out.

She didn't reply. She didn't look up, either. She just stared out across the lake, numbly wondering when she might be able to sneak back to her room and when she might be able to safely leave it again.

"I notice that you aren't with your friends," he remarked. "Interesting development."

"I don't think they'd want to see me right now," she quietly replied. "So I'm staying away. Unless, of course, you're going to force me to go see them."

He looked genuinely puzzled at this. "Why would I do that?" he asked. "This suits me just fine."

She didn't respond. She didn't even move a muscle. All he could feel from her, apart from the fact that she was freezing, was a dull emptiness that was slightly alarming.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" he asked after a few minutes of her ignoring him.

"Congratulations," she muttered.

"Thank you," he said.

There were a few more moments of silence.

"How did you do it?" she then asked. "Harry was first. He was closer. How did you manage to get the Snitch? Please tell me that you didn't use me to distract him!" She couldn't bear it if he had.

"I was better," he sharply said. "I caught the Snitch, simply because I was better than him."

Hermione didn't believe that for one second. "If you say so."

She knew she had just annoyed him, but what would he do about it? What could he possibly do that was worse than what he had already done today?

Knowing him, he could probably think of several things.

She didn't really care. She just wanted everything to go away, especially him.

"Well, come on, then," he finally said.

She looked up at him. "I'd rather not."

"I didn't ask you," he coolly replied.

"Can't you just go celebrate and leave me be for once?" she quietly asked. "I did what you told me to. They all hate me now. Can't I just get a few hours of peace?"

"So you can what?" he harshly asked. "Sulk? Freeze to death? Drown yourself in the lake?"

The emptiness rolling from her was seriously leading him to believe that she might do something foolish. It hadn't even been that bad; people hadn't really jostled her or anything. He'd been able to keep an eye on her from the air, and it seemed that her housemates had been grumpy but hardly hateful.

"The bet is only half over, so I can't tolerate any of that," he added for good measure.

Hermione sighed and got to her feet. "I wouldn't do that," she muttered. "I'm not a quitter."

"I might believe that if you actually stopped acting like one," he said, ignoring her glare. "Running away, hiding. What good is that going to do anyone?"

"Excuse me if I don't want to be hexed by both of our houses," Hermione scathingly retorted. "It's called self-preservation. You of all people should be familiar with that."

"Running away makes you look guilty, though, doesn't it?" he insisted.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't really," he said. "It's working pretty well for me, isn't it? But this depression of yours is annoying me."

She gaped at him before she sputtered, "If me being depressed _annoys_ you, then maybe you shouldn't strive to depress me!"

"I don't strive to depress you," he matter-of-factly said. "I strive to humiliate you and ruin your good name."

"How is that not the same?"

"Because I don't care how you feel about it," he irritably snapped at her. "Just stop sulking and stop procrastinating and bloody well come along!"

"Yes, master," she dully said.

"If you think talking back to me will help any, then you're sadly mistaken," he growled as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her, stumbling, along after him.

* * *

He took her to the Slytherin common room. She wasn't surprised. What better place to make her suffer than at the Slytherin after-game celebrations? He was, of course, greeted like a hero and led to a comfortable chair in the middle of the room. Hermione was being conspicuously ignored. She assumed it was because she had so clearly entered with Malfoy. It was ironic how his presence was all that protected her from them. She stood next to the chair, knowing that she probably wasn't allowed to just slink off to a corner. 

"Here," Draco said, thrusting a glass of a golden liquid at her. "Stop looking like you expect us to attack you. Why would we? You cheered for Slytherin, didn't you?"

He was looking far too smug for Hermione's liking and she flushed a bright red with anger. How dare he act as if she had had any choice in the matter when she had begged him to let her off the hook?

"I don't drink," she tartly said, putting the glass down.

His eyes darkened with anger, but he didn't respond.

"Where's Theo?" he instead asked Blaise who had just made his way through the throng to greet his friend.

"I think he's either in his room or at that office of his," Blaise replied. "You know he doesn't care much for Quidditch."

Hermione noticed the brief look of disappointment on Draco's face, before he managed to hide it. Apparently, he'd been counting on Nott to be there to congratulate him on his victory.

"His loss," was, however, his only response.

"I'm sure he'll find you once things quiet down a bit," Blaise said in what Hermione thought must be a soothing voice.

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't matter." His eyes fell on Hermione as Blaise made his way across the room to talk to someone else. "Why are you just standing there?" he asked. "Find a place to sit down. Don't go too far, mind."

Hermione looked around the room for an available seat. There didn't seem to be any. She froze as her eyes met the icy blue glare of Pansy Parkinson, who obviously didn't appreciate her presence. She realized that Draco hadn't even acknowledged Pansy yet and that she was getting the wrong idea.

"Um…" she hesitantly said, not sure if she should meddle in this.

"What is it, Granger?" Draco asked with a weary sigh. "You _prefer_ to stand now? Honestly, sometimes I think you just love making this harder on yourself than it has to be."

"No, nothing like that at all," she rushed to assure him. "Although, there don't seem to be any seats left. I was just wondering…"

He raised his eyebrows expectantly as her voice trailed off. "Get on with it, then," he snapped when she didn't know how to proceed.

She lowered her voice. "Don't you think you should pay some attention to your girlfriend?" she asked.

That appeared to be the exact wrong thing to say. Again, his eyes darkened and his features turned into a scowl. "Not you, too!" he growled. "It's none of your business! And she didn't come over here, either, did she?"

Hermione glanced back at Pansy whose glare had not lost any of its intensity. Draco followed her look and then grinned.

"Oh, I see," he said, sounding very amused. "It's your _own_ hide you're worried about, then? I do suppose she might want to discourage you from any, ah, ideas you might have."

"What ideas?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "She _knows_ what's going on."

"True, but she's still jealous of you wearing that bracelet. I wonder what she might do to you…"

Hermione's eyes widened a fraction. "Do to me?" she squeaked. "Why would she have any occasion to do anything to me?"

Suddenly, Draco's arm whipped out and grabbed her around the waist, toppling her across his lap, to everyone's great mirth. Everyone's but Pansy's, of course. She looked murderous.

Hermione struggled up to a sitting position and then tried to get off him, but was firmly held in place.

"Think she might do something to you now?" he coolly asked.

"If she had any sense she'd dump _you_," she sneered back. "Let me go! I'm sure you're in violation of our contract."

"Be quiet," he said. "You have a place to sit now, don't you? And exactly which point would I be violating? I'm not doing anything, really." He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What is this?" she groaned. "What did I do to deserve this?" She was very aware of all of the stares she was receiving.

She hadn't thought that this day could get any worse, but it just had.

He sighed and lowered his voice to be sure that nobody else heard. "If you'll just be quiet and sit still, it won't be a big deal. They already believe worse of you, remember?"

"Then why are you doing this?" she whispered.

"Because both you and Pansy are annoying me," he calmly stated. "I'm getting tired of her sulking and unfounded jealousy and your attitude and inability to shut up. This seems quite the easiest way to get both of you at once."

"Why would you want to be seen with a… a _Mudblood_ on your lap?" she asked, squirming a bit to get to the very edge of his knee.

"Why not?" he haughtily returned. "I don't think you realize just how unpopular I am with that set, anyway. So, who cares if they think my purity has been tainted? Your discomfort is worth it."

"Gee, I'm flattered," she grumbled.

He leaned over and grabbed the drink she had discarded before and thrust it at her again. "Now, drink this!" he hissed. "I want you to relax, before you give it all away. We can't have my sacrifice being all for nothing, can we?"

It was a clear order and Hermione was helpless but to start gulping down the drink. It burned, bringing tears to her eyes, and she was hard pressed to breathe, but she was powerless to stop.

"Stop drinking," he quietly commanded after a few seconds.

She finally wrenched the glass free from her lips and gasped for air and coughed. What a vile concoction.

"You couldn't stop on your own?" he asked.

She shook her head, still struggling for her breath. She had swallowed a good portion of the drink before he made her stop, and she felt a bit disconnected from herself. It wasn't the same sort of disconnection as during the match, though. Everything felt more dulled and she felt slightly less like her world was ending. This was an upside. No wonder people drank when they were depressed.

"I'm sorry."

Her head whipped up and her mouth fell open. _What?_

He grimaced. "Stop staring at me like that, Granger. I just didn't mean to drown you in firewhiskey. Drink at your own leisure."

"Can't I just be allowed to go?" she whimpered.

He grinned. "Of course not," he replied. "Can't have Theo miss this sight, can we?"

* * *

**Next chapter... **

**A dreamy smile spread across Hermione's features. "I was thinking about sending you into a coma for years and years and then your children—" She broke off and frowned before mumbling, "Crud, no children. Not any chance that Pansy is pregnant, is there?"**

**"Not likely, no," Draco choked.**

**"Oh, well, there's Muggle ways…" her voice trailed off.**

**"Excuse me? You're planning on putting me in a coma and impregnating Pansy?"**


	28. Chapter 28

**Woot! Svelte Rose won second place at the Dramione Awards in the category of Story Art with her banner for The Bracelet. Go Svelte! Told you that you were awesome, love. **

* * *

Hermione gaped at the vile Slytherin, who made a lumpy seat – also known as Draco Malfoy – for a second, before she began sputtering. 

"Are you completely out of your mind? How do you _think_ Nott will react to you acting this way?"

"I am guessing – and hoping – that he will be pissed off," Draco calmly replied.

"He will be pissed off at _you_," Hermione pointed out. "He knows I don't want to be here!"

"So?" Draco asked. "Why should I care what he thinks?"

"Obviously you do or you wouldn't be _trying_ to make him mad." The hand that was still on her waist to steady her tightened uncomfortably and Hermione gasped. "Ok, now you_ are_ in violation of the contract," she said with a grimace.

He blinked and loosened his grip. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Just please shut up and drink your firewhiskey – without drowning yourself."

He proceeded to ignore her in order to talk to his housemates instead. Hermione was still subject to a lot of odd looks, but she quickly found that the more of the foul-tasting firewhiskey she drank, the less she cared. When her glass was empty, someone filled it for her. It was really uncanny. She had to suppress a giggle at the thought of the uses of a self-filling glass of firewhiskey. Of course, by this time, she was on her third glass and even she had to acknowledge that she might already have at least halved her IQ.

She tried to keep an eye out for Nott, but Draco had positioned her so she had her back to the entrance, and the third time she twisted to look in that direction, he sharply reprimanded her, telling her to sit still.

He was such a killjoy.

Having been thwarted in that endeavor, Hermione resigned herself to watching the room. She was somewhat surprised to realize that even Slytherins seemed to loosen up and have a good time in the confines of their own common room, but then again – why wouldn't they? She supposed they were sort of people, too.

She deliberately avoided looking in Pansy's direction, though. She was sort of surprised that she hadn't made a scene yet, but then again, Draco would clearly not appreciate if she did, in spite of it being warranted. He was always such a bully, provoking people and then trying to control their responses. Sipping her drink, Hermione thought she could almost pity Pansy for being Draco's girlfriend. Only almost, because it wasn't as if Pansy was _forced_ to date him. In Hermione's opinion, she should just dump him well and good and be over with it.

She suppressed a yawn and fought not to shift in her seat. She was sitting sideways, as far out on Draco's knees as he would permit, and it really wasn't the most comfortable of positions. Her buttocks were growing numb and her lower back was aching a little from the strain of sitting straight instead of just leaning down towards him. As a way of distracting herself from her own discomfort, she took another swig of her glass, before grimacing.

Where was Nott already? She surreptitiously tried turning enough to glance at the entrance again.

"I thought I told you to stop that!" Draco growled.

Hermione pouted. "Well, it's not as if you're a comfortable seat!" she huffed. "I was hoping Nott would get here soon."

"First off," he said, "who gave you the idea that Theo getting here would save you? And second off, that's his name – _Theo_. You've snogged the bloke, start using his bloody name!"

"I think that's between him and me, don't you?" Hermione retorted.

"Wrong," he instantly contradicted her. "There is nothing between him and you, as you so adequately proved earlier today. When you talk to me, you will use his name."

Hermione pulled a face at Draco's highhandedness and decided to ignore him in lieu of her drink. It still tasted like evil liquefied, but she really did like the effect it had on her. It made her feel almost… serene. She grimaced again as she swallowed another gulp. It had actually gotten better; it didn't burn so much anymore.

"How much have you had?" Draco asked as she took yet another hearty swig.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," she muttered. "It seems to be a bottomless glass."

She giggled at the thought of the self-filling, bottomless glass and Draco began looking slightly alarmed.

"You shouldn't drink any more of that," he said, reaching for her glass, but she held it out of his reach, surprising him.

"Don't you dare!" she said. "If I have to endure this, I want to be drunk."

"I doubt you need to drink more to achieve that," he drily commented.

"I'm not drunk… yet," she said. "I'll let you know when I am."

"I don't want you vomiting all over me just because you can't hold your liquor."

She snorted and swayed slightly, causing him to instinctively support her lest she topple to the floor. How the hell had he missed just how much she had imbibed?

"Listen, Granger," he said in a low voice, while carefully securing her. "You're supposed to be smart. Is getting smashed in the middle of a flock of Slytherins really that clever?"

"What can they really do to me that you won't do, anyway?" she asked, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Fuck the contract, you'll find a way." She drank again.

Draco blinked. He didn't think he'd ever heard Little Miss Perfect Head Girl use such coarse language before. He also found it hard to decipher her mood as it was all over the place because of the drink. Perhaps he shouldn't have made her drink alcohol in her current condition. He reached out and firmly took the glass from her, ignoring her objections.

"You won't drink any more firewhiskey tonight," he said. "You'll thank me in the morning."

At this she bitterly laughed. "Thank _you_, Malfoy? You have completely ruined what's left of my time here at Hogwarts and, as you said, the bet is only half done. I should _be_ so lucky as to be in a drunken stupor for the second half!"

He wearily closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He wished her feelings weren't all pouring out at him so strongly; it was taxing. "I thought you said you weren't a quitter."

She didn't reply but merely scowled and looked away. He rolled his eyes and allowed her to sulk for a while, focusing his attentions on his housemates, who were all ecstatic that he'd caught the Snitch and eager to tell him so. He did notice the puzzled glances at Granger, but he chose not to address it and, so, neither did anyone else.

After all, he had definitely earned some leeway today.

After a while, the feelings of resentment and anger subsided and Granger began looking thoughtful, even smug. That couldn't be good. It wasn't until he felt the amusement in her, however, that he responded.

"What are you plotting?" he suspiciously asked.

She blinked as if she had been far away. "Nothing…" she innocently replied.

The feeling of amusement increased.

"You're plotting my demise, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said.

"Liar."

She shook her head. "Your death wouldn't really punish you but rather those around you, wouldn't it? Sure, it would bring _some_ satisfaction, but as revenge it's largely ineffective."

He stared at her. "Then what?"

A dreamy smile spread across Hermione's features. "I was thinking about sending you into a coma for years and years and then your children—" She broke off and frowned before mumbling, "Crud, no children. Not any chance that Pansy is pregnant, is there?"

"Not likely, no," Draco choked.

"Oh, well, there's Muggle ways…" her voice trailed off.

"Excuse me? You're planning on putting me in a coma and impregnating Pansy?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically almost falling down again, forcing him to tighten his hold on her. "And then when you wake up in years and years," she continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she could hardly stay steady, "you will realize that Pansy has left you for another wizard, your children – or at least child – grew up without you ever knowing them, and your grandchildren are almost grown as well. Then you will come home, try to reconnect… Oh, bother, now it's turning into a Hallmark movie…" She frowned again.

"A what?"

Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "Anyway, you will fail and _then_ you will die – old and alone."

Draco was beginning to feel some amusement himself. "Are you sure they didn't put you in the wrong house?" he asked. "I never knew Gryffindors to be so vindictive."

"I will, of course," Hermione continued, not paying any heed to Draco's comments, "have forgotten about your existence many years before that, while making the world a better place, surrounded by my own loving family."

"It's good to know you have a plan," he said.

"Yes, isn't it?" Hermione said with a contented sigh, before hiding a yawn behind her hand.

Draco shook his head. He didn't quite get it, but it seemed that Hermione's little fantasy had put her in a better mood. She really was a bloodthirsty little thing, wasn't she? He had to admire the complexity of her 'plan', though.

She squirmed again and he stiffened and scowled at her.

"I thought I told you to stop that!"

"I'm uncomfortable," she whined. "I'm tired, my back hurts and you're lumpy. Haven't you soon proved your point?"

He glanced over at Pansy, who had her back turned to them and was animatedly talking to someone. He knew her better than to think she wasn't furious, though. He didn't really much care about her confronting Hermione – in fact, he thought that it might actually prove quite entertaining – but it just didn't seem like good sportsmanship to allow it to happen while the Head Girl was this inebriated.

"If I let you go now, you're bound to have an accident on your way back to your dormitory."

"I can handle myself!"

"Maybe you can… when you're sober. Right now, you wouldn't stand a chance against anyone. Since I'm not in the mood to walk you back, you're going to stay put and stop complaining… and _stop squirming_!"

Hermione abruptly stopped trying to adjust her position and glowered at him. Could she really be that naïve? Did she honestly not recognize all the reasons why it was _not_ a good idea to squirm around on a bloke's lap? He didn't really want her there anymore than she wanted to be there, but since he'd put her there, he might as well follow through. It would hardly kill either of them.

"If you behave, I'll leave you alone tomorrow," he offered.

"And what about the day after that?" she grumbled.

He groaned with exasperation. Was nothing ever enough for her? "Tomorrow," he growled. "Take it or leave it."

Of course she took it. Even one day was a respite she couldn't turn down, and it would bring her one day closer to getting the bracelet off.

Being quiet, sitting still, and in other ways trying not to annoy Malfoy were, however, not the most thrilling things she had ever done. It was late, she was tired and she had had too much to drink, so after a while she began nodding off. She violently jerked awake and once again nearly toppled off Draco's lap. He sighed irritably and forced her to settle further in. She scowled at him for a while after that, but since he was just ignoring her, she soon drifted off again…

* * *

Hermione slowly came to. She fought consciousness, but, in the end, she lost. She was huddled into something nice and warm and there were a few voices around her. Voices? She opened her eyes but had to swiftly close them again, as the world was spinning a bit too quickly for comfort. Her mind was fuzzy, and it took her a few moments to realize where she was and why, and even then she couldn't bring herself to care, even though she had a vague idea that she should. She was so tired. She should probably move or give some indication that she was awake, but she just didn't feel like it. Who knew how long she'd been like this anyway? 

She slowly opened her eyes again, covertly watching the room around her. Most people must have gone to bed already, because only a few were left. Of course, Malfoy hadn't given any indication of wanting to leave or, even better, allowing Hermione to leave. It was odd that he'd let her sleep, though. Perhaps he didn't need her to be sentient for his scheme, perhaps he just needed her to be _there_.

There was no sign of Nott. Either he had already been there and left again, or he had yet to make an appearance. She sort of hoped for the latter.

She fought down a yawn. If she yawned, he'd know she was awake and she'd have to move. She did not want to move. She did not care that she hated the person she was currently curled up against; she was comfortable for the first time all night. Her ear was pressed against his chest and she heard it rumble when he spoke or laughed. It was funny. It reminded her of when she was a child, curled up against her father, when they were out late.

It was different, though. Something was off. Something was… strange. She supposed it was because he was _not_ her father or even someone she could call a father figure. He was even younger than her as far as she knew. He was also not someone she would normally trust, and she certainly didn't like him. Even in her fuzzy state she still recognized this.

But it was something else.

Then she realized. The hand that was supporting her back was not _just_ supporting her back. His thumb was rubbing slow circles on the exact spot that was sore from her earlier straining. She didn't think he even realized. No, she _knew_ that he did not realize. He must be able to tell that she was sore from the bond between the bracelet and the ring, and be reacting instinctively to try and soothe her discomfort.

How strange, considering how hard he'd been trying to _add_ to her general discomfort. She wondered if the magic was somehow affecting him. Well, if he suddenly decided to be nicer to her, she certainly wouldn't complain. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. She had said that she was not a quitter, but she was really only inches away from a breakdown.

The funny thing was, he didn't seem like he enjoyed it very much when she was depressed or upset. It seemed like he, on one hand, wanted to do the damage, but, on the other hand, he didn't want to feel the effects.

Hermione covertly glanced up at Draco's face. He was talking to someone on the other side of him, not paying any attention to her at all. It really was as if she was a child or a pet asleep on his lap. The person he was speaking to left and Draco turned his head slightly and looked straight into Hermione's eyes.

She supposed she was busted now, no more pretending to be asleep.

* * *

**Before I get spammed: Yeeeees, we will see Nott in the next chapter. Bother me too much and I will kill him! Ok, maybe not, but... yeah. Anyhoo, preview:  
**

**Hermione rushed out of the room, feeling shocked and mortified at what had just happened. Draco didn't feel sorry for her, he was sure that in some way, she was to blame for the whole thing.**

**Belatedly, he checked who had seen this little incident, and he had to suppress a groan. A good handful of people that he didn't know particularly well had seen as well as Theo and Blaise. A quick scan of the room told him that at least Pansy wasn't present.**

**"Pansy saw," Blaise interrupted Draco's perusal in a tight and angry voice. "She ran off to her dormitory. Why would you be _doing_ that to her?"**


	29. Chapter 29

**I'm in a bad mood today and as such I am thoroughly unimpressed with my own work. Hrmpf. Oh, well, if you can find nothing else to comment on, do comment on my pretty commas. I've actually worked hard on the commas in this chapter using new info from a grammar book I just bought.**

**... What?**

**Oh, all right then. Go on. Read it if you must. **

* * *

Draco knew the moment Hermione woke. He could feel it. It was strange… He didn't know if it was the physical proximity, or the fact that they had worn the ring and bracelet for a couple of weeks now, but he was very much aware of even small changes in her. Usually, it had to be strong for him to sense it but now he apparently even knew the difference between her being conscious or unconscious. 

Of course, he also both felt and heard her breath hitch as she realized where she was.

She didn't really make a move to get away from him, though. This surprised him. He had allowed her to sleep against him because he honestly didn't know what else to do. She was physically and mentally exhausted, and she had had more than her fair share of firewhiskey. It wasn't a wonder that she was out cold. She had slept for a couple of hours before she woke. It must be because of the unusual surroundings that she finally came to. She couldn't be that comfortable either, even though that while she had slept she had snuggled up in a way that was definitely too close for comfort – for him.

Having a female pressed up against him, her breasts brushing him with every breath she took, her thighs across his, and her hair tickling his neck every time he moved… It was definitely promoting thoughts that he shouldn't be having. Unfortunately, there were parts of his anatomy that didn't care much about blood status or whether he actually liked the girl or not. Those parts solely recognized that there was a soft female snuggled into him, and that every once in a while she would utter a small contented sigh, and he would remember what she had looked like asleep on his bed. The thought of Granger on his bed, combined with the feel of her body pressed against his, really didn't make him think of Quidditch.

Still, he had expected her to jump away as soon as she woke, but she was hardly moving a muscle. He tried to focus on any feelings coming from her, to see what prompted her passivity, but all he got was drowsy contentment. Maybe she wasn't as awake as he'd thought.

He knew she was still exhausted, and he supposed he should get her back to her dormitory somehow.

He said goodnight to Baddock and turned to look at her only to find her much closer than he'd expected, gazing at him with her big golden eyes in sleepy wonder. It startled him. Somehow, their whole position suddenly seemed much more intimate. She lowered her eyes and shifted slightly, making him clench his jaw as he fought down a most forbidden reaction.

Preoccupied with his internal battle to deny his physical awareness of her, he didn't actually realize that he was rubbing her back until his hand automatically shifted to find another sore spot and she moaned. He felt the burst of pleasure as the muscle was coaxed into relaxing, and he shivered as his heart sped up. It felt so good. The ring must be magnifying her emotions, because there was no way that a simple rub could feel _that_ good.

Ignoring the voice in the back of his mind telling him to make her move off him, he moved his thumb in slow, deliberate circles, applying pressure where needed, and her eyes drifted closed on a sigh. He rapidly found that this was addictive. He didn't want to stop in spite of the voice growing more insistent that this would end badly. He really should be tormenting her, not rubbing her back, but this felt much better than the constant unhappiness that was nagging at him during the day and keeping him awake at night.

He shifted his hand again, and, this time, it was he who couldn't stifle a moan. It wasn't only feeling good, it was feeling… extremely erotic. He shouldn't be entertaining this with _her_, but it wasn't as if he was really doing anything. It was just a couple of his fingers rubbing her lower back. It didn't really make sense why it would seem like such a forbidden thing to do. He had endured several hours of her on his lap, snuggling against him, without any side effects that couldn't be fought down, so why did now seem different?

Then he realized – it was because _she_ was aroused by it. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her lips slightly parted as she dreamily enjoyed his touch. The realization almost made him moan again. _His_ touch was promoting these feelings of pleasure and a slowly building need.

_How come?_

He didn't voice his question. Instead, he did the unthinkable; he bent forward and pressed his lips against hers. He didn't know what prompted him to do so, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He didn't know what he was expecting, either, but it certainly wasn't the explosion of sensations that he felt. She gasped, and he expected her to pull away, but she didn't. She pressed into him and returned the kiss with a fervor that left him breathless.

He had never been so aroused in his whole life. His own enjoyment and hers mingled until he didn't know or care who felt what anymore. It went beyond anything he'd ever experienced and he hadn't even tasted her yet. He continued to gently rub circles on her lower back with the one hand while he steadied her with the other hand on her thigh, and then he carefully used his own lips to pry hers apart. She was so willing, so accommodating, and her lips immediately parted under his. He tried to stifle his moan at her enthusiasm, but wasn't entirely successful. Before either of them had a chance to have second thoughts, his tongue darted in to stroke hers.

There was another burst of feelings, almost like a blinding light, and he couldn't keep his lips and his tongue from getting more demanding, couldn't keep his control from slipping at the intensity of it all. She didn't back down. He was losing himself in this sensual vortex, his heart pounding in his ears, deafening him to anything but the little sounds and sighs she made.

He slowly stroked the outside of her thigh. From her response, he suspected that she liked this kind of subtle petting much more than groping, even if she was in the same place as he was, trembling with unfulfilled need. He didn't dare grope her. He didn't dare touch the places he wanted to touch. He would lose the little control he had.

She whimpered and eagerly responded, driving him insane, urging him onwards. He reveled in every little sensation coming from her. He didn't need her little whimpers and sounds to know just how strongly she felt everything. He could feel it for himself and that, too, spurred him on.

As her hands came up and caressed his chest before she tangled them in his hair, holding him to her, he drew her even closer if that were possible. He knew she could feel the proof of his own need – she had to be able to feel it – but it didn't matter to him right now. Nothing mattered but the searing kiss and how to get more of it.

Suddenly, he was yanked back by his shoulder and the kiss was broken.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Blaise hissed.

Draco blinked, momentarily disoriented, but then it slowly dawned on him what he'd been doing and, as he regained some of his senses, he was appalled. Was the girl part Veela or something, since she was able to draw even _him_ in like this?

He chanced a glance at her to see that she had come to her senses as well, her eyes big and horrified and her mouth forming an O.

Well, at least she thought it was a bad idea as well.

He was suddenly feeling inexplicably annoyed.

"Please let me go," she finally whispered.

"Go!" he growled, and she got up and half-ran a few steps before stopping dead in her tracks.

Draco followed her stare to see that Theo was standing just inside the entrance, his face completely emotionless. Granger took a step towards him, but he turned his face away from her and stepped around her. She both looked and felt stricken.

"Hey, Theo!" Draco called out, but was ignored as the other boy made his way to his room.

No hoping that he hadn't seen what happened, then. Draco hadn't quite planned on pissing him off _this_ badly.

Hermione rushed out of the room, feeling shocked and mortified at what had just happened. He didn't feel sorry for her, he was sure that, in some way, she was to blame for the whole thing.

Belatedly, he checked who had seen this little incident and he had to suppress a groan. A good handful of people that he didn't know particularly well had seen, as well as Theo and Blaise. A quick scan of the room told him that at least Pansy wasn't present.

"Pansy saw," Blaise interrupted Draco's perusal in a tight and angry voice. "She ran off to her dormitory. Why would you be _doing_ that to her?"

Draco blinked. "She ran off?" he mumbled. "That doesn't sound like her…" The Pansy he knew would have castrated him on the spot.

"You didn't answer my question!" Blaise sharply said.

Draco glanced at his friend. Furious seemed to be too mild a term for what Blaise was feeling. He sighed.

"I don't know, Blaise," he said. "But I don't think you should worry so much about Pansy. I think we just broke up."

Not even she would tolerate this. He tried to feel guilty, but mostly he just felt sorry that he'd accidentally hurt her again.

Blaise looked like he was hard pressed not to punch Draco. "Why would you do this to her?" he asked again. "Why string her along when you will disrespect her enough to snog a _Mudblood_ in public?"

Draco winced. He'd really rather just forget what had just happened. "I figured she'd tire of me on her own," he confessed. "Whenever I've tried to… She always comes back. I figured at some point she'd realize…"

"That is the most spineless thing I have ever heard, even from you!" Blaise spat.

"I didn't want to hurt her, Blaise," Draco muttered. "I really thought she would… I thought she would eventually get tired of me and just find someone else."

"_This_ is not hurting her?" Blaise asked, frantically pacing in front of Draco. "And why are you getting snuggly with Granger, anyway? I didn't say anything all night because it seemed like it might be another one of your little tricks. But this? I'm not sure any amount of firewhiskey can explain this."

Firewhiskey? He glanced at the table to see a few glasses deposited there, including the one he had confiscated from Hermione. He wasn't about to enlighten Blaise to the fact that he hadn't been drinking himself because he had wanted a clear head.

The 'clear head' part had obviously failed him.

The realization that Granger, however, had been more than a little tipsy inspired another inexplicable flash of annoyance in him. So what if she hadn't been exactly sober, she had certainly seemed like she knew what she was doing. And she _should_ know what she was doing; after all, she'd had plenty of practice just this week! He scowled at the thought. This was nauseating.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Blaise demanded.

Draco went for brazen and shrugged. "Granger's reputation is shot now, isn't it?"

Blaise's eyes widened and he grabbed the arms of Draco's chair, looming over him. "Tell me that you didn't just say that you hurt Pansy like that for the sake of your petty little vendetta!" he snarled. "You be glad that there weren't more people around to _see_ and that most of those who _were_ around were too tired or too drunk to notice the implications of that kiss. I noticed it, Draco. You bloody liked it. If you had liked it any more than that, we would have had an entirely different show on our hands."

Draco couldn't prevent the color rising in his cheeks. Blaise was spot on. He hadn't really had any self-control. It didn't mean that he had to just take these accusations, though.

"Who are you to talk?" he retorted. "You're still sneaking around with Davis, aren't you? Snogging in broom closets and empty classrooms when you think nobody sees it, and then preaching to _me_ over one little episode?"

"It_ doesn't_ compare!" Blaise sneered, not even bothering to refute Draco's statements. "I don't have a girlfriend that I'm hurting. I don't spend my entire waking moment planning on new ways to torment, abuse and humiliate Tracey. She is only half-blood and not a Mudblood…"

Draco's eyes were caught by a movement behind Blaise. It was Tracey coming down from the dormitories. Her eyes lit as they fell on her handsome lover, and a fond smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He wondered why she would be coming down at this hour, but then his ears caught the next bit of Blaise's tirade.

"… I have _never_ kissed her in a public place, because I know my standing, and I know that it's simply not acceptable. We are _purebloods_, Draco. Why would we want to taint our names like this? The only thing worse would be if we actually married one of them. We have obligations to our names and our blood!"

"Blaise," Draco interrupted warningly, as he saw Tracey stop and stare as if she had been slapped. Fuck. He had no desire to make tonight any messier than it already was.

"Don't you 'Blaise' me," Blaise growled. "Have your fun with her, if you must, but for Merlin's sake at least keep it quiet! Don't let it ruin your good name. It's not like it's that hard to keep quiet, you know, and sooner or later you'll be done with her—"

"Blaise!" Draco interrupted more sharply, finally getting through to his ranting friend.

He nodded towards Tracey, whose eyes were filling with tears, her trembling hand clamped across her mouth as if to hold in a scream.

The change in Blaise when he spotted her was instantaneous. "Tracey…" he whispered.

This seemed to bring the girl out of her shock and she took off towards the exit at a dead run, tears streaming down her face.

"NO!" Blaise called out, panic clear on his face and in his voice. "Tracey, wait… You misunderstood! I didn't mean it like… I didn't mean you! I wasn't talking about…"

Before Draco knew what was going on, his friend had disappeared out the door after his… whatever she was. He was stunned. If he didn't know better, he'd think Blaise actually cared about Tracey in a way that was entirely inappropriate.

What in the name of Merlin was happening to the good House of Slytherin?

* * *

**... This time I deemed it more evil to NOT give you a preview! Mwahahaha.  
**


	30. Chapter 30

**Just a tiny quick reminder that each chapter isn't written on the spur of the moment just before release. So when I said I was icky when going over last chapter, I wasn't really writing it, just doing final editing and rewriting before publication. It had actually been written and betaed a month ago. This is also why I say you are powerless to influence me. Having this buffer is nice because I can still update even when Uni is crazy and I don't get to write nearly enough. But it also allows me to go over the chapters again at a time when I have had time to put some distance between myself and my writing and then polish it and, hopefully, make it better.**

**Dramione awards on LiveJournal ( http (colon slash slash) community (dot) livejournal (dot) com (slash) dramioneawards ) are starting up again! Yay, fun! This time I actually want to vote for things! Nominations begin Saturday, March 1st, 2008. I know some of you are avid Dramione readers and I implore you to go make some good nominations (you can do so without having an account). Sometimes these LJ communities can become a bit... well... inbred (such an ugly word, sorry) and it would be awesome if some fics that were otherwise missed by this crowd were to be nominated. Not that those ON LJ don't deserve it (heck, I post there too) but we want the best of ALL fics, don't we? So even if you don't normally use LJ... get moving! (Note: You cannot nominate yourself and someone needs to second the nomination for it to be in.)**

**So much ranting. On to the fic.**

* * *

Hermione woke very slowly. She didn't want to let go of the warm, fuzzy feeling of sleep, but eventually she had to. Her head was hurting a bit and she felt dehydrated. She supposed she had been sleeping in an awkward position, and she had probably let her room get too hot. She yawned and stretched, wincing slightly as her head began pounding worse and she felt a vague nausea. 

This was odd, she never got sick.

Then it hit her. Last night. She had been drinking. Her eyes widened in horror as all the images of what had happened came rushing back to her, and then she groaned and pulled her duvet up over her head. This was a nightmare. There was no better way to describe it.

There was no way she could really have kissed Draco Malfoy and… _enjoyed_ it!?

She pulled a face and groaned again.

She really didn't want to revisit that memory, she really, really,_really_ didn't, but she knew she had to figure out just what the hell had happened. She could always beg him to obliviate her later. Or possibly she could ask Zabini. Or… oh, God… Nott had seen. She had hurt Nott and there was no way for her to explain to him, because she couldn't seek him out or talk to him.

She bet that was all part of Malfoy's plan.

Even as she thought it, she had to discard that theory. It might have been a part of his plan to make it seem like they really were sleeping together, but it seemed like he genuinely cared about his friendship with Nott, and he wouldn't deliberately do anything that might ruin it, would he?

Of course, he probably didn't think that anybody would care enough about a _Mudblood_ to let it ruin anything. She wasn't exactly sure how Nott had felt, but she had a strong feeling he had been hurt. And why wouldn't he be? He had kissed her in their office just a few days earlier and then, just like that, she had forgotten herself and had…

Her stomach heaved again and she had to take a few deep breaths.

_If you could do it, you can think about it!_

… She had forgotten herself, while she had been snogging Malfoy. The nausea grew stronger and her heart started pounding as panic began to set in. She had really done it, hadn't she? She remembered the feel of his hair sliding through her fingers as he was pressing her close to him and massaging her tongue with his.

She made a face. His _tongue_. In her _mouth_. Gross!

She knew she was being juvenile, but she just couldn't help it. Malfoy simply inspired these immature feelings in her.

She vowed never to drink again.

It hadn't felt gross at the time, though… She blushed when she recalled exactly how it _had_ felt. Well, one thing was for certain – she certainly liked kissing. She had yet to receive a kiss that she didn't like, and just since Monday she had received _three_ kisses from _three_ different boys, and she had responded to all of them. Even the one given by the worst prat this side of existence.

She preferred not to go into detail in her reminiscing. She had been drunk last night; she was sure that if she had snogged a yeti, she would have liked it. She would probably actually have _loved_ kissing a yeti, based on her reaction to Malfoy. He was the lowest she could ever go – far, _far_ beneath the yeti – and yet her reaction had been… explosive.

She couldn't believe how it had felt. How she had liked it. Fortunately, she knew she didn't want it to ever happen again, because right now, she wasn't feeling anything but embarrassment that she would kiss _him_ of all people and so _publicly_, too!

Although, in a way, she was rather glad that it had been public. Who knew what might have happened if they had been alone? He had certainly shown no signs of stopping and she had not been thinking clearly. If kissing him had been a bad idea then whatever else might have happened would be… She shuddered. It was simply unthinkable.

Looking on the bright side, this was a clear violation of the contract, and as soon as she could find Malfoy and get him to take off the bracelet, she would be free.

* * *

Draco stared at his own reflection in his mirror. The reflection scowled back at him. 

Everything was falling apart.

He had tried to get a word with Pansy all morning, to make sure she was ok, but Daphne had been guarding their dormitory like a bloody griffin. He could just barge past her, but he really doubted that would be constructive. Theo also hadn't answered when Draco had knocked on the door to his room, but he wasn't at his office, either. He supposed he could see why he was mad, but… it wasn't as if Draco was _into_ Granger. It had just been one of those things. Theo had to understand that.

In his endeavors to patch up things, Draco had also briefly come across Blaise, but even though the other boy didn't seem mad anymore, he was too preoccupied with his own problems for a decent conversation.

Things were falling apart and he had _her_ to blame for it.

He pushed away any voices claiming that he hadn't been without blame and that Granger couldn't have been sober enough to know what she was doing.

Given her track record, he'd say she'd known exactly what she was doing, seducing him into kissing her.

_Why would she do that?_

He'd know soon enough. Perhaps she was going for some sort of record. Or she was simply seeing if she _could_ do it. Maybe she got off on unlikely conquests. Or maybe she had known that Pansy had been in the room and had seen Theo come in, and she had taken that opportunity to mess everything up for him.

_Bitch_.

He deliberately ignored the shame and disgust that was pouring at him from the ring.

* * *

"Malfoy, could I see you for a second?" 

Draco managed to fight back a groan, but he wasn't able to stop himself from wincing. The way Granger was raising an eyebrow, she had noticed. She had actually approached him in the hall after lunch.

What was wrong with her?

"I gave you the day off," he bit out. "Or can't you stay away from me anymore?"

A bit of pink tinged her cheeks to his great satisfaction, but she didn't back down. "It will only take a second."

He didn't want to follow her to an empty classroom, and he didn't want her in his room, either. He would really prefer not to talk to her at all, but he sensed her determination and knew that he'd never get peace if she didn't get her say. Best to get it over with.

"I was heading outside," he said, half-hoping the cold would deter her.

She just nodded and followed. Blast. Well, at least she didn't have her cloak, so the autumn weather would make her go inside soon enough.

"What is it, then?" he asked, once they had reached a spot where they could talk in private – without being too secluded. He _really_ didn't want to be alone with her, and he _really_ didn't want to explore why that was.

"I thought that would be obvious?"

He was aware that she was going to address last night, but it wasn't as if there was a whole lot he could do about it, so he just shrugged, not sure what she wanted. "Spell it out for me."

"You were in breach," she said. "Free me."

He gaped at her as everything fell into place.

_Of course. She did it because she wanted to be free._

For some reason that made him extremely angry.

He had to take a few moments to calm himself.

He should have expected that all her words about _integrity_ and _honoring her word_ were only good until the going got rough. Last night, she had made her play to get out of the bet.

He didn't plan on letting her get away with it.

"Forget it," he growled. "It stays on."

Her eyes widened slightly, before she narrowed them. "You violated the contract," she hissed. "The conditions were clear."

"I didn't do a damn thing!" he snarled, fighting hard to keep his voice down.

This time her eyes visibly widened. "How can you say that?" The incredulity was visible in every line of her body. "You know what you did!"

"Yeah?" he asked. "Then how come I'm not cursed. I don't seem to have any boils or missing bits. Tell me what your curse was supposed to have done, and I'll check to see if it happened, because I'm feeling rather normal."

Hermione stared at him. He was right. He hadn't been hit by her curse. "How can that be?" she whispered.

"Because," he said in a low and angry voice, "your little plan didn't work. I didn't coerce you. I didn't use the ring for anything last night except nearly drowning you, which, I'm beginning to regret, didn't work."

She frowned. "What plan? You can't actually think I _planned_ that!"

"I'm hard pressed to think of any other reason for it," he snarled, feeling sick with her and himself.

"I was drunk and exhausted! I would _never_…"

"But you did, didn't you?"

"It was _you,_ who—who…" She couldn't even say it. "_You_ did it!"

He smirked coldly. "You offered me a very blatant opportunity to further my scheme, of course I took it."

She sniffed and angrily looked away. "You _would_ do that." She shuddered at the thought at just how far he might go in furthering his schemes. She had to be careful around him.

"Don't give me that pristine virgin act," he growled. "You forget – I know _exactly_ how much fun you had!"

In spite of Hermione trying to fight it, color crept into her cheeks and she cringed. When she noticed Draco's smirk at her reaction, however, she found it in herself to retaliate. "I was also in a_ position_ to know what kind of fun you had!"

He blanched slightly but then shrugged. "Girl wriggling around on my lap for hours in spite of me telling her to stop – it was bound to happen. You must have known this, given your kind of experience."

She glanced at him, wondering just what he meant with her _experience_, but quickly decided that didn't matter. "I was drunk," she repeated. "And exhausted. If anything, you took advantage of me."

There was another flash of anger in his eyes, but then he just raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm a Slytherin. You should know that I will use _any_ means to achieve my ends. Besides, I had already warned you that getting pissed would be a bad idea."

They seemed to be at an impasse, neither of them willing to back down.

Hermione swallowed and looked away again.

She wasn't going to be released from the bet.

She would have argued that point from now until doomsday if it wasn't for the very obvious fact that Draco was not cursed. The contract didn't recognize it as a breach, because she had been a willing participant. It didn't matter _why_ she had been a willing participant, as long as it had nothing to do with the magic of the ring and bracelet.

She looked back at him as something occurred to her. "But you did use the ring," she accused him. "You used it to seduce me. Without it you wouldn't have known what..." She cleared her throat as her voice failed her. "What to do. How can it be you're not in violation?"

He shot her a haughty glance. "I didn't date Pansy for three years without discovering how to kiss a girl, Granger."

She couldn't keep from blushing. "You know what I mean," she muttered.

He sighed wearily. "You wrote _no ordering_. I didn't order you to melt into a puddle, you just did."

Her blush deepened. "Did not!" she muttered, ignoring his unconvinced look. "Is there any chance that I can get you to not use this against me?"

"No."

She sighed. "Can you at least allow me to talk to Theo?"

Draco flinched at the mention of his friend's name. "No, I don't want you to fill his head with false notions of me taking advantage of you."

"I won't, I promise," Hermione all but begged. "But I have to talk to him. I have to explain—"

"I said _no_!" Draco angrily interrupted. "Stop wasting my time and stay the hell away from Theo! He deserves better than some Gryffindor tart, who will snog anyone in sight."

With that, he stalked off, leaving her to stare blindly ahead, oblivious to the cold.

* * *

The day didn't improve for Hermione. When she made it back to her common room, Ginny demanded to have a word with her. With a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, Hermione led the other girl up to her room. 

"You lied to me," Ginny hissed as soon as the door closed after her.

The sinking sensation got worse. "No, I didn't," Hermione muttered.

"I overheard a couple of Slytherin girls in my year talking about what you did last night. How _could_ you! And after what you did at the game?" Ginny shook her head. "You're a lousy friend and a blemish on our House!"

Hermione gaped. Those were rough words, even for Ginny. "Wait a minute," she sputtered. "So, that's it, is it? I kiss one boy that you don't approve of and suddenly I'm… what you said?"

"It's not so sudden is it?" Ginny retorted. "You've really been sleeping around with Draco Malfoy for a while now, haven't you?"

Hermione crossed her arms, unwilling to just accept this onslaught. "I did not lie to you about that stupid sock," she said. "But what if I have? It's _my_ business, isn't it?"

"Do I have to remind you what his father did to me?" the other girl hissed.

"That was his _father_," Hermione pointed out. "Who he happens to not be in contact with anymore, not since he and his mother fled Voldemort."

"Says he!" Ginny crossed her arm as well.

"No, I know it for a fact to be true," Hermione returned.

"It doesn't even bloody matter," Ginny fairly shouted. "He's a _Malfoy_ and a _Slytherin_ and do I have to mention all the things he's done over the years? Or the fact that _Ron_ loves you?"

"No," Hermione quietly said. "But Ron knows about… about what's going on, he's taken his stand. If you want us to butt out of your relationship with Harry, then you need to do the same for us."

Ginny made visible efforts to calm herself. "On that point you might be right," she surprised Hermione by saying. "But have you even considered how Ron might react when he hears about _this?_"

Pain stabbed in Hermione's chest. She really hadn't. She had been so busy trying to figure out all the ramifications for her own person that she had failed to think about how others would be hurt.

"Ron will be hurt," she whispered. "As I was when he dated Lavender. There's even a good chance that anything we might have will be over, but you have to leave that for us to figure out."

"You don't love him," Ginny bluntly stated. "If you did, then you wouldn't be kissing other boys – not now, not after everything you've shared." She turned and yanked Hermione's door open and slammed it behind her as she left.

Hermione stared at the closed door. There was some truth ringing to Ginny's words. She shouldn't have enjoyed kissing Nott so much just two days after kissing Ron and she _definitely_ shouldn't have enjoyed kissing Malfoy three days after _that_.

But if she wasn't really in love with Ron… then what?

* * *

**Hmmm... A preview? Ok, then. But only because everyone was nice enough to call me evil last time, hehe. **

**No fucking kidding. He sighed, pocketed her wand and took off the ring. "This is going to hurt," he said and yanked her to her feet.**

**She screamed. He didn't really blame her. She also nearly fell down again, but he steadied her, forcing her to lean on her good leg. After a few seconds her screaming was replaced by miserable little sobs.**

**"The Hospital Wing is not far," he said. "Any way you could… jump there or something?"**


	31. Chapter 31

**Come on people, pay attention to the shades of grey. Getting all these black/white reviews can be a bit taxing. Especially since I try and take the time to actually _put in_ shades of grey.**

* * *

Monday rolled around much too slowly for Draco's tastes. With classes, Pansy and Theo wouldn't be able to avoid him to the same extent as they could during the weekend. It grated that neither would even hear him out. He knew that Pansy and he were most likely finished, but she could at least talk to him. When he tried to explain this to Daphne, she just stared at him with an incredulous gape and shook her head. 

It wasn't as if he didn't understand that Pansy was mad and probably upset, but surely she wasn't the kind to hide? He vividly remembered bruising from other times he'd upset her and once she had hexed him so badly that he'd had to go see Madam Pomfrey for a cure. Why she was acting so differently this time was a mystery to him.

He tried seeking both of them out at breakfast, but Pansy was unusually quiet, turning her face away from him, while Daphne's eyes shot daggers at him, and promised him severe retribution if he did not leave them alone, and Theo simply acted as if he did not exist. It didn't matter what Draco said; he spoke to deaf ears. As Theo was leaving, Draco grabbed his arm and got his first response – a cold and indifferent request to be released.

So he let him go.

Draco knew that he shouldn't have kissed Hermione. He never would have under normal circumstances. He didn't even really know how it had happened, but it seemed like he was the one suffering all the consequences. He lifted his head to look at the one who was at fault, his gaze burning with all his hatred.

* * *

Hermione was stunned, no shocked, no flabbergasted. She was staring at people around her, wondering if someone had obliviated them all. 

Nobody was acting as if anything was amiss.

Granted, they might not actually know about her kissing Malfoy so publicly, but they had certainly all been there when she had cheered for Slytherin at the Quidditch match. Yet not as much as a spiteful glance came her way.

She poked at Ron. "What's wrong with people?" she whispered.

He looked slightly taken aback and then looked around at their housemates. "Nothing that I can see. They seem perfectly normal to me."

"Yes!" she wildly exclaimed. "_Why_ are they acting perfectly normal?"

There was a chuckle from the other side of the table, and she turned to stare at Harry.

"You know," Harry conversationally said, obviously addressing Ron. "She might know more about what's going on, if she tried to be around us more often, instead of _hiding_ like she did after the game and again yesterday."

"Oh, I absolutely agree," Ron said, taking a bite of his toast and not elaborating.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ok, fine. I get it. I should be around more. But what's going on? Please tell me!"

"Well," Harry said, helping himself to some jam. "After the game, people were sitting around the common room, acting all moody…"

"As well they should," Ron interrupted. "I can't believe that git managed to grow longer arms than you." He scowled as if the length of Draco's arms was a personal insult.

Harry cleared his throat. "Don't remind me," he said.

"Why_did_ he catch the Snitch?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you were obviously closer and his arms aren't _that_ long. Did he… did he say something to… distract you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction. "One wonders what you worry he might have said," he said in a low voice. "But no. The Snitch slipped through my fingers and he caught it – it was dumb luck on his part."

Ron snorted. "As if there was any other way for that bugger to catch it."

"Anyway," Harry continued, "then they started to dig into you, getting all worked up."

Ron's face softened a bit as he shot Hermione an affectionate glance that confused her to no end.

"And we had a brief discussion, where Ron and I managed to convince them that you were being coerced by that evil git." Harry jerked his head in the general direction of Malfoy.

Hermione followed the motion and met Draco's glare. She was caught unaware that he'd been looking in their direction and was shocked by the intensity of his narrowed gaze.

"Wow, look at that," Ron murmured next to her. "Seems like you managed to piss him off somehow."

She quickly averted her gaze. "By existing, I'm sure," she replied just as softly.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Don't worry about him, Hermione," he said in his most reassuring voice. "You're a Gryffindor, and we're all behind you."

Hermione had to look away as a lump formed in her throat. Today the rumors would probably flow and she very highly doubted she'd still have their support by the end of the day.

* * *

The day passed very slowly. Classes were very boring and Draco made no progress whatsoever with either Theo or Pansy in the classes he shared with them. Blaise was all he had, and he was unusually quiet and contemplative. It was impossible to get him to talk about what had happened between him and Tracey after they had left the common room, but Draco suspected that it hadn't been pretty. 

Well, it wasn't as if that relationship hadn't been doomed from the start, anyway. He was sure that Blaise would come around soon enough.

He'd finally had his last class of the day and was making his way back to the dungeons, when he felt apprehension and a sharp pain. He stopped dead in his tracks. The pain wasn't his, but he felt it just the same. For a second, he considered simply ignoring it and going back to the dungeons, but then the pain increased, making him moan.

Damn that thoughtless little bint.

She wasn't far, anyway.

He sighed and made his way towards her. When he turned the final corner to where she was, an astonishing sight met him. Hermione was prone on the floor, her legs stretched out, and she was leaning on her hands, clearly trying to struggle up to her knees, but moving all the slower for the pain in her leg. Her wand was on the floor a few feet away, and looming over her, sneering taunts, was Crabbe of all people.

Really, he'd thought she was too smart to be taken down by Crabbe.

Hermione tried again to move her leg and pain shot through both of them, making Hermione moan and Draco wince. Behind Crabbe were a couple of sniggering lumps that he recognized as fourth year versions of Crabbe himself. Grand, now there were Slytherin gangs without _any_ brains.

"Why don't you get up, Mudblood?" Crabbe was goading her. "Is it that you _like_ fucking a Slytherin so much that you instantly have to throw yourself down at our feet?"

Draco rolled his eyes. This was simply too lame.

"Piss off, you wanker," she growled in response, making another painful effort to get up.

Draco was slightly impressed in spite of himself. She wasn't really in a position to give anyone any lip, but, of course, she wasn't letting that stop her. He was surprised at her crude choice of words, though, but credited it to the pain. Crabbe was flushing red with anger, and as he pointed his wand at her, Draco felt that perhaps he should interfere now.

"Really, Granger, you don't have to bow down to _every_ Slytherin…" he said, coming forward. "I mean, some are hardly worthy…" He gave Crabbe an assessing glance. Crabbe was stupid and slow to be sure, but he was quite menacing physically, so he'd better stay out of his arm reach. He quickly glanced at the fourth years, who looked apprehensive just at Draco being there. Good. They wouldn't be a problem.

"Malfoy," Crabbe sneered. "Come here to rescue your Mudblood lady love, have you?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So eloquent you've become. Did you eat a dictionary or something?" Hermione tried to stand again, and the pain shot through him, momentarily distracting him. "Stay down," he snapped once it ebbed sufficiently for him to think. Surprisingly enough, she did as told, and didn't even glare at him.

"She's fair game and you know it, Malfoy," Crabbe said. "She's just another Mudblood."

Draco was _really_ getting annoyed now. "You leave me no choice," he said. "Ten points from Slytherin!"

Granger gasped and Crabbe stared, his sneer completely gone. The new cronies nervously shuffled their feet. Oh, so that got all of their attentions, did it? Well, he didn't like doing it, either.

"What for?" Crabbe finally asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Your sheer stupidity! This is the _Head Girl_, in case you've forgotten. I don't know why she didn't hex you into oblivion when you first accosted her – really, Granger – but she can make life _really_ hard on you, for doing this to her, and on me too if I allowed you to do it. I like my life _easy_."

"_She_ didn't even deduct any points!" Crabbe defended himself.

"Of course she didn't, you incompetent wanker," Draco growled, having had just about enough. "I wager she wanted to live! Now, are you going, or should I talk to Professor McGonagall about having you over for detention? I'm sure she'd love knowing what you've been doing to her pet student."

He had never seen Crabbe moving as fast as he did when he stormed off with his new friends, but he did catch the look of sullen resentment the bigger boy sent his way. He would have to watch his back now… and for _this_!

He decided that he was having a really bad day. He had a lot of those lately.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. "I didn't see him, and he did something to my leg before I could react."

He snarled. "I didn't do it for _you_. Second-hand pain doesn't become me. Can you stand?"

She moved again and the pain blinded him for a second.

"No, I don't think so," she whimpered after the pain subsided again.

No fucking kidding. He sighed, pocketed her wand and took off the ring. "This is going to hurt," he said and yanked her to her feet.

She screamed. He didn't really blame her. She also nearly fell down again, but he steadied her, forcing her to lean on her good leg. After a few seconds her screaming was replaced by miserable little sobs.

"The Hospital Wing is not far," he said. "Any way you could… jump there or something?"

"N-need crutch," she forced out.

He looked around with little hope of anything being available.

"Transfigure it," she whispered, clearly in agony.

It really wasn't far, and he didn't quite remember how to do that particular transfiguration, so that would probably take longer than just taking her there.

He made a disgusted sound, hating himself for what he was about to do. "Lean on me."

Her eyes widened in her tear-streaked face and she just stared at him.

"Don't plan on making a bloody habit, Granger," he bit out, "but I'd like to get the ring back on _without_ feeling pain and I'd also like to get back to my common room, so just fucking lean on me, and let's get this over with!"

She hesitantly did as he asked, but even so, they had to move agonizingly slow. Draco was beginning to wonder if he couldn't just float her there, or if there was any chance that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't make him help her back to the hospital wing if he simply fetched the witch.

He_ really_ didn't like this. He didn't like helping Granger. He didn't like crying females unless he was the one to deliberately make them cry – in which case it was immensely satisfying. He didn't like knowing the exact nature of this pain. He didn't like that she was currently pressed against his side, leaning heavily on him, soaking his robes with her tears, in order to advance with as little pain as possible.

He didn't like _her_, for Merlin's sake.

When they finally made it to the hospital wing, he felt immense relief and immediately handed her off to Madam Pomfrey, who fussed over her and shot Draco a suspicious glance. He just glared back. Did the silly old bird _really_ think he'd be bringing Granger to the hospital wing if he had been the one to hurt her in the first place?

Having gotten rid of the little invalid, he made a quick escape, very pleased that nobody of consequence seemed to have seen.

But, of course, he never did seem to get away with anything these days.

As soon as he was outside in the corridor, he was stopped by a cool and all too familiar voice.

"Pretty touching display," Pansy said. "Especially from a boy who won't even hold hands."

"Pansy," he murmured, and then immediately added, "Are you all right?"

"I've been better," she replied. "No thanks to you."

He didn't know what to say, but just stared hard at the floor.

Pansy jerked her head at the door to the hospital wing. "What was all that about? Are you getting soft?"

Draco shook his head. "Crabbe was an arse and physically hurt her so badly that I can't wear the ring until Madam Pomfrey treats her."

"Well, maybe that's not such a bad idea," she said in a hard voice. "_Don't_ wear the ring."

He was so weary. "We've already discussed this."

"You damn near fucked her on Saturday. _Her,_ Draco, when you n-never…" Pansy clenched her jaw and then took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "You never wanted to sleep with me."

"It was never about want. You know that," Draco said in a quiet voice.

"And yet you'd do _her_!" Pansy concluded.

Draco emphatically shook his head. "No. In fact, I plan on spending the rest of my life _not_ doing her, but… it was never about me, you know that. It was about _you_."

"You're such an arrogant prat! Who told you that you could make decisions on my behalf?" she fairly shouted.

"I damn well can when they involve _me_!" he returned.

"You just don't understand, do you?" she asked. "It never mattered. All you did was deny me my first time with someone I loved."

"No!" he replied. "I saved you so you could have your first time with someone who loved _you_!"

As soon as he'd said it, he wished he could take it back. Pansy looked as if he'd struck her as the words echoed between them in the silence.

"I see," she finally said, her eyes distant and unfocused.

"No, Pansy, you don't reali—" he began.

"Excuse me," she mumbled as she pushed past him, stumbling back to the dungeons.

For quite possibly the first time in his life, Draco truly felt like an arse.

* * *

**Heehee... Hermione has been hanging too much around Slytherins... **

**He leaned slightly forward. "Since you ask so nicely… no."**

**She gaped at him for a second and then snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she huffed. "I'll just be off to tell everyone that you _saved_ me yesterday, then."**

**He stared at her. "What?"**

**"And if you order me not to say anything about that, I will make something up. If you order me not to lie, I will find tales to twist. If you order me not to speak, I will write or mime or whatever I have to do. By the end of the day, you will be known as the champion of Muggleborns… and Hufflepuffs."**


	32. Chapter 32

**zomg update! I'm really too burned out to write anything here today. Lovely reviews lately, thank you.  
**

* * *

Hermione was, after much begging on her part, released from the Hospital Wing early enough next morning that she would be able to catch all of her classes. Her leg was still sore from the whole ordeal the day before, so she was walking with a limp, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Certainly nothing that warranted that she should miss her classes. 

It still made her blush that _Crabbe_ had taken her down. The boy was practically an imbecile! Her only consolation was that he had gotten her from behind as the underhanded louse he was. She just wished that Malfoy hadn't seen it. It was embarrassing that one of his lame ex-bodyguards could beat her so easily. It certainly wouldn't diminish the contempt she had to endure from him.

Still, it was sort of fortunate that Malfoy had come to her aid. No matter what.

Even thinking about it seemed wrong. Malfoy never came to anybody's aid unless it was aiding in _torturing_ somebody; yet he'd seen fit to get her away from his housemates twice now. Once yesterday, and once five days ago, after he had made her eat at the Slytherin tables.

She supposed he needed her alive for another thirteen days of a different kind of torture.

She took a little comfort in the fact that she was more than halfway done with wearing the bracelet. And she still lived. She might actually survive this!

She had to go seek Draco out first thing before going to class, though. She didn't really want to draw his attention to her person, especially not since he hadn't seemed particularly happy about helping her yesterday, but he had forgotten to return her wand and she couldn't very well go to class without it.

It turned out that she had both good luck and bad luck. The good luck was that he was just leaving the Great Hall together with Zabini, as she had finally managed to hobble down to the ground floor. The bad luck was that he seemed to be in a very bad mood, and he was sure to take it out on her.

It couldn't be helped. She would have a really difficult time going to classes without her wand.

Malfoy didn't seem to have noticed her and turned towards the dungeons.

"Malfoy!" she called out, making him freeze in his tracks, before he slowly turned and rolled his eyes. Zabini seemed like he didn't notice at all, but merely kept on walking. Strange, that wasn't like him at all.

Draco stood coldly watching Hermione, until she painfully limped all the way up to him.

"Let me guess," he said then. "You couldn't _bear_ to miss a class?"

Hermione scowled. "There's no need to," she sniffed, not bothering to try and contradict him.

"And why are you pestering me?" he asked in almost polite tones.

"You have my wand," she said.

He frowned slightly, looking puzzled.

"Vine wood, dragon heartstring core? You pocketed it yesterday after your mate's show of school spirit, remember?" she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

She really wanted to get into the Great Hall so she could sit down for a few minutes before she had to brave the evil stairs again. Her leg bloody hurt and Draco _knew_ this; she had clearly seen the ring on his finger.

He grunted in annoyance. "Don't get fresh, Granger. You might live to regret it."

"Can I just have it, please?" she asked wearily.

"I don't have it on me," he said, shrugging.

"Well, could you get it?" She knew she shouldn't sound so impatient and annoyed, but _damn it_, she _was_ impatient and annoyed with him.

He leaned slightly forward. "Since you ask so nicely… no."

She gaped at him for a second and then snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she huffed. "I'll just be off to tell everyone that you _saved_ me yesterday, then."

He stared at her. "What?"

"And if you order me not to say anything about that, I will make something up. If you order me not to lie, I will find tales to twist. If you order me not to speak, I will write or mime or whatever I have to do. By the end of the day, you will be known as the champion of Muggleborns… and Hufflepuffs."

She smiled, very pleased with herself.

He was gaping slightly, which made her feel even better. She got the feeling that she was learning how to deal with Slytherins.

"Remind me not to help you again," he finally murmured.

She shrugged. "It was appreciated. As will my wand be."

"If I give you your wand back, you have to promise never to do… that!"

She nodded graciously, and he shot her an exasperated glance.

"Wait here, then," he muttered.

"Oh, no," she said. "I'm going to go have breakfast."

"I am _not_ giving you your wand while you're sitting at the Gryffindor table!"

She raised an eyebrow. "As long as I have it by my first class, I don't care. If I don't, then you will be known as a hero before lunch."

He made a disgusted sound and walked away from her.

Hermione grinned, giving herself a mental pat on the back. He would retaliate to be sure, but, for now, she had won.

She hobbled into the great hall and carefully took her seat, almost sighing with relief as her leg finally got some rest. Good thing she could sit down during classes, or today would have become unbearable.

She shot furtive glances at her housemates. Still nobody showed any signs of hostility. Perhaps the incident hadn't been as interesting as she gave it credit for.

Harry was still here, but Ron had left already. If she knew him, he probably had to finish up some assignment for class. Really, he should get organized.

"Hey!" Harry said, sounding surprised to see her. "We were going to visit you at lunch; Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us in last night. Said you needed rest."

"It wasn't that bad," Hermione said. "Who told you where I was? Madam Pomfrey?" She frowned slightly. No, Madam Pomfrey probably didn't alert anyone but the teachers. "Professor McGonagall?" she guessed.

He shrugged. "Just found a note that you had been hurt and were at the Hospital Wing. We thought you had asked someone to write it."

She stared at him. "No… I was drugged…"

"Somebody probably saw," Harry said, shrugging it off. "So, how did you end up there, anyway? Or should I ask – who put you there?" His eyes glinted dangerously. "Malfoy went too far, didn't he?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, he—" She broke off. She probably shouldn't publicly tell him about Draco helping her, when she had promised she wouldn't. "It wasn't Malfoy," she said instead. "Someone else pulled a mean-spirited prank on me."

"Who?" he demanded.

She didn't have time to reply before a hand slammed down on the table to her immediate right. She glanced at it to find that it was pale and well-manicured and had her wand underneath it. She didn't have to look up at the person standing behind her to know that it was Draco, and he was less than pleased.

"Thank you," she calmly said, knowing that it would only make it worse, but unable to help herself.

Draco's eyes widened slightly. The nerve she had!

He narrowed his eyes at the back of her head, contemplating ways to make her sorry. A motion caught his attention and he noticed good old Saint Potter glaring at him.

Smirking slightly, he bent down without taking his eyes from Harry. Hardly moving his lips, he breathed into Hermione's ear, "You'll pay for this. You'll be very sorry that you attempted to get the better of me. I'm not some lame Gryffindor – I _will_ retaliate."

He pushed away and left.

Harry scowled and Hermione blushed slightly at how that must have looked to him, but she decided that nothing she said could make it better, so she kept quiet and ate her breakfast.

* * *

"Theo! Hold on! Wait!" Draco caught up with his friend after they had had their last class of the day. 

He knew Theo didn't have anywhere particularly important to be, but he was still ignoring him. It had been three days for pity's sake; shouldn't he be getting over it?

"You have to talk to me sometime," he said, when the Head Boy didn't acknowledge him.

There was no response.

Draco sighed. He really hadn't wanted to do this, but Theo left him no choice.

"Want to know what it felt like?" he baited him. "I mean, I know you already snogged her yourself, I was there, but perhaps you'd like to know what it feels like to have her crawling all over your lap, wriggling and rubbing—" He was thrown against a wall so quickly that he barely had time to blink. "Go on, then," he calmly invited. "Hit me and get it out of your system."

Theo abruptly let go and turned away. "You don't get it," he said. "Just leave me alone."

Draco felt an inexplicable urge to hit something or someone himself. "What's to get?" he hotly retorted. "You're mad at me. Just punch me and let's call it even."

Theo half-turned and gave Draco a condescending look. "We wouldn't be even," he calmly said. "I would yet have to betray you for no other reason than sheer selfishness. You don't even _like_ her."

Draco swallowed. He supposed that much was true. "Look," he said, grasping for words that might make Theo understand. "I didn't mean to do it, all right? It wasn't as if I woke up and thought 'first I'll play Quidditch against Gryffindor, and then I'll make a move on Granger, even though I can't stand the bloody bitch, but at least it will fuck up my relationship with Theo.'"

"Then what _did_ you think?" Theo asked.

"I…" Draco hated this. "I didn't, ok? I didn't think. And I'm not going to do it again."

"If you didn't think the first time, then what's to stop you from doing it again the next time you 'aren't thinking'?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair, feeling thoroughly frustrated. He didn't like how Theo didn't seem to understand. Theo, who normally seemed to know everything.

"It's not as if I did it on my own," he grumbled. "I never would have in the first place if she hadn't been so arou—" He abruptly cut himself off, blushing slightly. Some things were perhaps better left unsaid – especially if Theo still planned on dating her.

Draco realized that he could no longer be in the way of that if he wanted to make an effort to keep Theo's friendship.

"By all accounts," Theo said in a calm voice that Draco had a feeling masked some real anger, "she was not quite herself. You made her go against her entire house in the morning, so I'm guessing she was emotionally unstable, and then you got her drunk and kept her in an intimate position all night. The girl was probably so starved for kindness that she'd take anything from anyone – even you."

These were harsh words. Perhaps not completely undeserved, but harsh. Draco couldn't help but feel stung that Theo seemed to insinuate that he had planned the whole thing. He knew she hadn't been sober, but, damn it, she had seemed to know what she was doing just as well as he had. Which didn't necessarily mean a lot, given his state of mind, yet everyone seemed to believe that he was the one who had been solely responsible, when she had been the one who had been behaving so seductively.

He couldn't say that, though. He couldn't tell Theo how much he had wanted the girl that Theo had a crush on, even if it had all been a temporary insanity. He definitely couldn't tell him that she had returned the feeling.

"It doesn't even matter," he muttered. "It happened. I can't undo it."

"I decide if it matters!" Theo harshly responded.

Draco blinked. He hadn't really meant to speak aloud. "Of course," he quietly said. "And I _am_ sorry. I won't even try to keep her from you anymore." He winced at the thought of the feelings he might have to endure from the connection now, but he hoped that Hermione would be embarrassed enough to keep them to a minimum. "She's all yours," he added, just to underline his own disinterest.

"That's where you're wrong," Theo quietly replied. "Granger is very much her own."

Yet he seemed slightly mollified. Draco knew that releasing Granger would earn him forgiveness sooner, but he still wasn't ready to do that. Taking off the ring, even for a short period of time, was getting harder.

He was loath to admit it, but in spite of him professing that he'd rather be without knowing her feelings, he was rapidly becoming addicted and could now easily identify even weaker emotions in her. When he wasn't wearing the ring, his own lacking emotional variety – for the most part he was merely bored, annoyed or amused – made him feel almost dead.

He knew this was a bad sign.

* * *

It was cold outside. Not that this was any big surprise, it was usually cold in November. Hermione drew her cloak closer around her. She would mind the cold less if it was less… _cold_. Yet, she had to get out and get some fresh air every once in a while or she'd go bonkers. 

She gazed towards where Harry and Ginny were standing, several feet away. Harry had been sitting here until he had seen Ginny make her way and then as if unable to wait for her to reach them, he had gotten up and walked over to meet her.

Currently, they seemed to have forgotten all about Hermione while standing closely together, Harry shielding Ginny from the wind with his body and his cloak. It was really quite sweet. Ginny lifted her head and gifted Harry with a dazzling smile as he bent to kiss her.

Hermione felt a pang of longing and jealousy. She had always thought she'd eventually have that with Ron, but now she wasn't so sure anymore. Nott had liked her, too, but, of course, Malfoy had seen to ruining _that_ before she could know if there might have been something there.

She was alone, and she really didn't want to be, so she found herself begrudging her best friend his happiness and hating herself for it.

"Really, Granger," a mocking voice was saying. "Haven't you had enough snogging? Do you _really_ need to be going after Potter too?"

She scowled at Malfoy. "As usual," she haughtily replied, "you don't have a clue what you're talking about.

"Oh, but I do have a clue," he retorted. "Sensing feelings and all that. It's funny how I thought you might be better friends than this. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Anything to keep you lot dysfunctional – as long as you don't actually smooch him until the bracelet is off."

Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, but she wasn't about to enlighten Malfoy as to _what_ she had been thinking. The truth was actually more embarrassing.

"What do you want?" she asked instead. "It's not four yet."

"I figured out what I want to do today," he said in a very pleasant voice.

Hermione's heart sank and she shot him a quick, nervous glance. His lip twitched, and she scowled in response.

"Don't you want to know what it is?" he politely asked

"No," she replied. "No, I really, really don't."

"You don't have to come down to the dungeons," he said in a silky voice. "What with your leg and all, couldn't ask that of you."

She eyed him suspiciously. He could and, more importantly, he _would_ ask that of her.

"Let's go, then," he said.

"Where?" She wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

He smirked triumphantly. "Why, _your_ room, of course."

* * *

**Enter more cast members:**

**Suddenly Draco yelped and jumped back.**

**Hermione leaned forward to see what had inspired this reaction and had to clap a hand over her mouth, as she burst out laughing. It was too late, though. He had heard and was directing a murderous glare at her.**

**The thing that had startled him so was Crookshanks emerging from under the bed to rub against his legs.**

**She decided the damage was done anyway, and her eyes were filling with tears from the strain of keeping it back. "Big… bad… Slytherin…" she gasped, "afraid of itty… bitty… kitty!" She fell back, laughing.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Ugh, so many things to do, so little time. It's briefly mentioned in the next bit but I'd better say it here as well: It's true that the Gryffindor Tower is further than the dungeons, but she has to go to the tower anyway, while going to the dungeons would be _extra_ strain on her leg...**

* * *

Hermione stared at Draco. Then she stared some more. 

He rolled his eyes. "You might want to close your mouth," he suggested.

She did so with a snap.

"Well?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well what?" she hissed, snapping out of it. "We can't go to _my_ room!"

"Of course we can," he said, shrugging a bit to position the strap of his bag more comfortably on his shoulder.

His bag.

"Why are you bringing your bag?" she warily asked.

The corner of his lip twitched. "Can't get behind just because I'm obliging you."

"You don't have to oblige me, really!" she rushed to assure him. "I'll come to the dungeons. My leg is already much better!"

She was lying. She had been making her way up and down stairs for classes all day and her leg was swollen and throbbing with the strain of it. Of course he knew this. True, the trip to the tower was longer, but she would have to make it eventually, anyway. Her friends would bring her food.

"I wasn't aware they let cowards into Gryffindor," he murmured. "I thought you were all supposed to be foolhardy and rash."

She raised a haughty eyebrow at him. "I am _not_ going to argue any reasons why you might call us foolhardy and rash and this has nothing to do with courage. Nothing good can come from you going to my room."

Irritation flitted across his features. "Let's go," he coldly said, and she realized he was done arguing with her.

She glanced towards Harry and Ginny one more time, making Draco snort derisively, but they were too caught up in each other to notice anything.

She sighed and slowly got up.

"Don't look so glum, Granger," he said with an evil glint in his eye. "If you're a good girl, I might even let you sit down once we get there."

* * *

Hermione wanted to run to her room so that nobody would have time to see them, but, alas, her leg didn't permit it. It bloody hurt. She supposed she could have gone to the Hospital Wing to have Madam Pomfrey look at it, but she had been afraid that the witch wouldn't have let her leave again, so instead she had gritted her teeth and gone on with it. She had gotten a potion to take for the pain, if it got too bad, but it hadn't actually helped that much. The only thing that would help was to give her leg a rest, and, now, he had even threatened to make her stand. Heck, he'd probably send her on an errand to the dungeons once they got there, just for the fun of torturing her. 

Strangely, she didn't actually believe that he would do either of those things. Not unless she made him lash out at her.

He could be so sensitive about some subjects, it was almost ridiculous. She _had_ noticed a pattern in this area. If she struck a nerve when they talked, he got nasty. If there was any chance that she might not consider him evil anymore, he got nasty. If she caught him being vulnerable, he got _really_ nasty.

"Get a move on, Granger," he said in a bored voice as they reached third floor. "This is taking all day."

"Walking as fast as I can!" She meant to snap at him, but it came out more of a whimper. Botheration.

He didn't reply at first, and she glanced at him to see that he was frowning slightly at her.

"I can't believe you were taken down by Crabbe," he finally said. "They make you out to be this Wonder Witch, and you were taken down by _Crabbe_, the epitome of all that is stupid, clumsy and…_stupid_."

Hermione flushed slightly. He was right. "He got me from behind," she mumbled weakly in her own defense.

"That's no excuse," he harshly replied, demonstrating that he heard her perfectly well. "You know there are people out to get you these days, and yet you blithely walk around, allowing amoebas like _Crabbe_ to get the better of you. He could have done much worse, you know. He doesn't have the brains or the forethought to stop while he's ahead."

She opened her mouth to deliver a retort, to taunt him with why he would care, but she stopped herself just in time. He would not show mercy in his punishment if she pushed him too far, and she was in too much pain and feeling much too tired for her to risk it. Besides, much as she was loath to admit it, he was right. She had been careless.

He shot her a sardonic glance. "What? No comeback?" he pushed.

"No," she sighed. "You're right. It was very careless of me and I was lucky that you happened to be close by."

He stopped walking – just stopped and stared at her.

Hermione wasn't about to stop and stand around to idly chat, so she pretended she hadn't seen and pushed on. They were almost there. It wouldn't take her more than a minute to reach the Fat Lady.

Who only knew how long it would take to convince the Fat Lady to allow the Slytherin Deputy in when it wasn't an emergency, though. Well, if Hermione had to pull rank, she would. She just wanted to get her leg up.

She was rounding a corner when she realized that Malfoy still hadn't moved.

"Cat got your tongue?" she baited.

That seemed to do the trick, and he quickly caught up with her. "Let's get one thing straight," he grumbled. "I didn't do it because I wanted to help you, I did it for myself. The ring seems to intensify some of your emotions before giving them to me. Pain is apparently one of them."

Hermione secretly doubted whether they were really intensified. It had hurt so much that she had wanted to pass out.

"You could have taken it off," she wearily pointed out.

"Didn't want to," he said.

She glanced at him inquisitively, but he was looking away, his lips tightly pressed together. It was almost as if he hadn't meant to say that.

Why wouldn't he want to take off the ring?

"Why?" she couldn't help but press. "What happens when you take it off?"

"Nothing," he replied.

She wanted to badger him some more about it, but they had reached the Fat Lady, and now Hermione had to spend a few minutes talking her way past the meddlesome painting. Fortunately, Malfoy chose to keep silent.

When they entered the common room there were a few Gryffindors scattered about, talking, playing wizard's chess or exploding snap; doing homework, or just lounging.

Everyone fell silent and stared as their Head Girl entered with the Slytherin Deputy on her heels. Hermione's cheeks grew hot, but there really wasn't anything she could say or do, so she just made her way towards the stairs to the dormitories. She could feel Draco following her, and she just _knew_ that the arrogant prat was smirking at her discomfort.

"I hope you rot in hell," she ground out loud enough for some people to hear, but not loud enough to warrant a punishment for open rebellion.

"You'll probably get your wish soon enough," he coolly replied. "Provided one believes in such things."

"Oh, I'll believe if it grants me my wish," she growled.

The only answer was a low laugh.

After too many bloody stairs, they finally made it up to her room. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, once she at last could push the door open. Then she frowned. She had forgotten the state of disarray her room had been in lately. Well, if King Malfoy had any complaints, she didn't care. It was his fault she didn't have much time for anything else.

Her eyes fell on the bed and her eyes widened as she saw the discarded underwear there. It was clean but still… personal. Hurriedly she hobbled forward and grabbed it, swirling around, keeping the clothes behind her back, as she heard the door click behind him.

Draco took the room in at a glance. "Interesting."

Hermione warily made her way sideways to her chest of drawers, where she quickly, and not quite stealthily, discarded her garments in the top – and entirely wrong – drawer, before slamming it closed again.

"Even more interesting," he said, a note of humor in his voice.

She whirled around to retort and saw him holding up a bra by the strap with one finger. She flushed a deep crimson and went to snatch it from him and throw it in her laundry basket.

"So, tell me, Granger," he said conversationally. "Do you always leave your unmentionables lying about like this?"

"I wasn't planning on company," she bit off.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Somehow I thought you'd be more… organized."

"I usually am," she all but snarled, "but due to _someone_ ordering me about all the time, I've barely had time to eat, sleep, and do homework, let alone clean my room."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You had Sunday off," he reminded her.

She actually bared her teeth at him before limping over to the edge of the bed to sit down. She did have a desk and a chair, same as Draco, but it had become a habit that whenever they were in a room together, the chair was his. Besides, she _really_ wanted to rest her leg.

"My one day off and I was going to spend it on cleaning?" she scoffed. "I hardly realized you would demand to come here."

He seemed to suppress a grin. "You would have cleaned for me? I'm touched, Granger."

She counted slowly backwards from ten before responding.

"I would have removed my _unmentionables_," she clarified once she thought she might have her temper – and her embarrassment – in check.

This was absolutely mortifying. She made a mental note that she would never be too busy to hide embarrassing laundry again, no matter how unlikely it was that she would get a visit.

Draco put down his bag, squishing any hope she might have had that he didn't really plan to stay here, and looked over her room again. His eyes fell on the bed, where she was sitting, and he frowned.

"That's not fair, your bed is bigger than mine."

Hermione fought an urge to roll her eyes. "That might be because I am Head Girl and you're only a Deputy," she said, also fighting a not entirely successful battle not to smirk. "Isn't Theo's bigger as well?"

Draco shrugged. "Never been to Theo's room," he mumbled. "Just his bathroom. It doesn't actually connect to his room, but it seems that neither does yours…." He looked around as if to check for any extra doors and then shrugged again.

"Why would you be using his bath?" Hermione asked and then, as she realized that it was sort of a personal question, she flushed a bit again and mumbled, "Never mind."

He shot her one of his annoying sardonic glances. "Deputies don't get the same perks. _Theo_ decided to _share_ his bath with me. You know, sort of a _friendly_ thing to do? It would never have occurred to you to do the same for your Deputy, would it?"

She looked down her nose at him. "Padma is in Ravenclaw; I hardly see how she could benefit from having to come over here to use my bathroom."

"That's merely a detail," Draco calmly stated. "Had she been Gryffindor, you would still not have thought of it. You don't really like to share, do you? It's amazing how you haven't fallen apart at the thought of Patil doing your job for you lately."

Hermione gritted her teeth. This was something she preferred to give as little thought as possible, since there was no way for her to change it.

"None of your business," she growled. "Don't you have homework?"

He pursed his lips and instead of taking his things to her desk to work on them, he began walking around her – rather more spacious – room.

"Didn't know they supplied the Heads with a library," he drily commented as he stopped before her bookcase and looked at the titles.

"Those are my own," she informed him.

The glance he sent her was hardly flattering. "Of course," he said, before perusing the rest of the room in the same annoying and much too familiar manner.

"Could you please just… stop touching my things?" she finally exploded after a few minutes.

By the way his lips quirked, she could tell he had been waiting for this reaction. "No," he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. "You can't just go through my things like this."

"On the contrary," he calmly replied. "I believe this falls perfectly within my rights."

He was wearing a self-satisfied smile that made Hermione scowl.

"You're creepy, you know that?" she grumbled.

He shot her a haughty glance. "I'm not going through your underwear drawer, am I?" he asked. "Although maybe I should… maybe you'd keep a diary there."

Hermione couldn't reply, she was too busy staring at him in horror.

"No," he mused, ignoring her stare, "you wouldn't call it a diary, would you? You'd call it a _journal_, and _journals_ are hardly hidden among one's underwear…."

She just kept staring.

He made a disgusted sound. "Snap out of it, Granger. As if I'd care to read your journal. It would probably be boring accounts of homework and snoggings."

Hermione flushed with embarrassment that he'd managed to trick her like this. But nobody could blame her for thinking he might try to learn as many embarrassing things about her as possible and lately… well…

She reminded herself to secure her journal with some nasty spells, just in case.

Suddenly Draco yelped and jumped back.

Hermione leaned forward to see what had inspired this reaction and had to clap a hand over her mouth, as she burst out laughing. It was too late, though. He had heard and was directing a murderous glare at her.

The thing that had startled him so was Crookshanks emerging from under the bed to rub against his legs.

She decided the damage was done anyway, and her eyes were filling with tears from the strain of keeping it back. "Big… bad… Slytherin…" she gasped, "afraid of itty… bitty… kitty!" She fell back, laughing.

Pink tinged Draco's cheeks, and he narrowed his eyes in a further attempt to intimidate her, but she just kept laughing. This wasn't very good for his ego.

"Not that itty-bitty," he grumbled, carefully walking around the huge, evil creature that was obviously Granger's pet.

She laughed even louder, and he glowered at her.

He didn't even know how to punish her, because, frankly, he would have laughed, too. He growled at the damn feline, who just purred back at him.

Conceding defeat, he decided to go do his homework. The cat stalked him.

"I don't think I like how affectionate your pet is, Granger," he said, pushing it away with one foot, as it tried to rub against him when he was seated.

"Crookshanks isn't affectionate," she replied, still slightly breathless. "He only likes me. Or tolerates me is more like it. He's a mean little thing." She carefully got up and went to snatch up the purring feline. "Aren't you, Crooks?" she cooed and placed a smacking kiss on the animal's forehead, before she dragged it back to the bed with her.

Draco thought the cat looked as if it would as soon murder Hermione in her sleep as allow her to cuddle it. She seemed oblivious to that fact.

He shook his head and began doing his homework.

* * *

**"You're feeling guilty!"**

**"Am not!" Draco indignantly replied.**

**"Are too!" Hermione insisted.**

**Draco scowled. "Not!"**

**"Too!" She challenged his glare and then her eyes widened. "Were you the one to leave that note, too?"**

**And Theo makes another appearance... **


	34. Chapter 34

**Note 1: We've reached Silencio length now. In word count, I mean.**

**Note 2: Yes, Draco can enter the girls' dormitories. It was mentioned in one of the early chapters. He considered it a perk where it's really only because it's the Heads' and Deputies' duties to sort out any problems that might be - anywhere. Sometimes getting a hold of the girls might just be too difficult, you know?**

**Note 3: I'm sick of people telling me to make my chapters longer. It would only make me update less frequently. Here's to the few of you who keep bugging me about it: Wait with reading until there's 2-3-4 chapters ready for you. That way you have MORE to read. Brilliant, eh? Pretty much the same end-result and all. Really, you should have thought of it instead of being such bitches.  
**

**Note 4: It's my boyfriend's birthday today and he requested a Bracelet spin-off fic. It's NC-17 and is _not_ relevant to this story, but solely uses it for its own purposes. You can find it at http(colon, fwd slash, fwd slash)community(dot)livejournal(dot)com(fwd slash)kittyfics(fwd slash) and affnet under my username there. **

* * *

Hermione leaned back against the pillow she had propped up against the headboard, her injured leg stretched before her, and the healthy one bent, her foot tucked under her knee. Crookshanks was on her lap, looking lethargic – in a positively evil way. 

She grinned at the cat and gave it an impromptu hug, resulting in a highly affronted look.

"Don't give me that, you incorrigible puss," she lightly scolded. "I know you're not as bad as all that."

Draco's back stiffened slightly and then he slowly turned in his seat to look at her. "Don't tell me you actually have conversations with the animal!"

"Of course not," Hermione sniffed. "He doesn't talk, silly." Draco seemed to relax a bit and he was turning back as she said, "But he understands me. Don't you, Crooks?"

Draco turned back around. "And they call you the brightest witch?" he incredulously asked. "He's a stupid fur ball, who only understands killing, eating, and mating. Well, unless you took care of that last thing."

Hermione gasped in mock horror, covering the cat's ears. "Don't say these things in front of him!" she admonished. "He's very sensitive about that." She managed not to wince as Crookshanks made his displeasure of having his ears squashed known by clawing her arm.

Draco stared at her in exasperation.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Apparently Malfoy didn't really have much understanding for the concept of pets and how they were supposed to be subject to anthropomorphism and coddled like babies.

"You know," she mused after a few minutes had gone by and Draco had resumed his homework. "There _should_ be talking animals."

"What?" he asked, frowning at her. "Just what did Madam Pomfrey give you for your leg?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm serious!" she said. "With all this magic and talking paintings and ghosts and a bloody Whomping Willow, there should be talking animals!"

"You've lost your marbles, haven't you?" Draco scoffed. "Animals are already sentient beings in their own right and you want to give them people-qualities so… what? You can chat to your cat about tuna?"

She sighed. "You really are no fun."

"This isn't _supposed_ to be fun, Granger," he reminded her.

"I know," she said on an exhale. "You want me to miserable forever and ever."

"It's not working very well, though, is it?" he mumbled.

"I think you know exactly how well it's working," she quietly responded.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Just do as you're told and you'll be fine."

Hermione didn't bother to argue. Draco wasn't exactly known for his ability to see reason. Instead, she decided to pet Crookshanks and frown at the animal for not wanting to purr at her when it had been so ready to purr at Draco just for looking at it before.

"Can I go to my Head Meeting tomorrow?" she abruptly asked.

Draco blinked at the change of subject. "What?"

"I need your permission to go see Theo."

"Oh…" he muttered, his throat suddenly feeling oddly thick. "Yeah… Go…"

"Can I talk to him?" she pressed.

"Yes."

"Look at him?"

"What the hell is this? Yes, of course you can look at him!" He frowned in annoyance. Couldn't she just let it go already? He found that he was very unwilling to talk about Theo right now. Hermione smirked slightly, and Draco realized he had allowed her to bait him.

"Well, excuse me, but I seem to recall that I need _specific_ permission for every aspect," she smugly informed him.

He supposed he had to let her know. "The, ah… the order doesn't stand anymore," he said. "You're free to…"—he cleared his throat. Damn, he must be coming down with something—"do… whatever you wish with him. Only him, mind you. The rest of Hogwarts is still off-limits."

Why the hell had that been so hard to say? He supposed he might still be wary about Theo's judegment when it came to a certain Muggleborn witch. Yes, that was sure to be it.

"Just remember," he hurried to add. "I can still feel you. I will know what you're doing, so don't do anything rash."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why?"

"Why not do anything rash? Really, you should be able to figure that one out for yourself."

"No," she irritably snapped. She was so easy to annoy that it almost wasn't funny. Almost. "Why am I suddenly allowed to do whatever I want with Theo?"

He raised an eyebrow. "This is what you want, isn't it? Aren't you happy?"

"I'm ecstatic," she drily replied, "but you aren't interested in making me happy. So why?"

He shrugged. "It would make _Theo_ happy."

"It would have made Theo happier if you had never tried to sabotage him in the first place," she pointed out. Then realization hit. "You're feeling guilty!"

"Am not!" Draco indignantly replied.

"Are too!" Hermione insisted.

Draco scowled. "Not!"

"Too!" She challenged his glare and then her eyes widened. "Were you the one to leave that note, too?"

"What note?" he asked with what seemed to be genuine confusion.

"The note telling Harry that I was at the Hospital Wing," she clarified. "Was that you?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Why the hell would I be giving Potter notes? He'd figure out soon enough that you didn't come back. Besides, I hadn't even thought about him, and even if I had… I wouldn't have cared."

Hermione pursed her lips while she thought about this. It sounded true enough. Malfoy wasn't prone to alleviating Harry's fears.

"Then who did?" she asked.

"How would I know?" he asked with a sigh. "Honestly, Granger…"

"Well, who knew that I was in the Hospital Wing?"

He shrugged. "Any number of people, I suppose. Crabbe and his mates. And Pansy."

Hermione snorted. "Yes, because they… wait, you told Pansy?" She was immediately distracted by this new information. Why would he tell_ Pansy_, of all people, that he had helped her if he didn't want anyone to know?

Again Draco looked confused. "Why on earth would I _tell_ Pansy?"

This time Hermione was the one to shrug. She didn't actually know why, which was why she had asked. "Because she's your girlfriend?" she ventured.

"Not anymore. Oh, don't look so surprised, not even Pansy would stand for her boyfriend publicly snogging someone else and it didn't make it better that it was _you_!"

As soon as the words were out, Draco cursed his own bluntness. Not because he was afraid of wounding Hermione's feelings, but because, well, there were some things you should never say aloud. Saying them aloud made them real.

There was an awkward silence where Hermione looked away and Draco swallowed. Neither of them had really openly acknowledged what had happened after the Quidditch match. Not since they had had their brief discussion. Whenever Draco made a barb about Hermione's snogging habits, he took care to mentally _not_ include himself in her conquests. It was constantly there, but it was as if they had an unspoken agreement to not put it into words. To not make it real.

"I, uh… I'm sorry?" Hermione finally said.

Was that an admission of guilt? Draco glanced at her.

"About you two breaking up, I mean," she added. "Do _not_ try and blame me for the… the incident again."

The incident. That was certainly one name for it.

"Whatever, Granger," he murmured.

"I have another question for you!" Hermione said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. He just shot her a weary glance and she took that as a go-ahead. "Why don't you want to take off the ring?"

Draco groaned, filing this day away as another bad one.

"Well?" she demanded.

He had a few options. He could order her to shut up about it, which would make her suspicious, or he could give her some vague or misleading answer… or he could tell her the truth.

He immediately discarded the first and the last option. He never wanted her to know how addicted he was to sensing her blasted feelings.

"Crooks got your tongue again?" she persisted.

"Merlin, you're the most annoying witch I ever met!" he growled. "I just don't want to waste the time in which I can order you about, that's all. I only have a few weeks to do it; I want to get the most from it."

"I don't believe you," she bluntly stated.

"Well, I honestly don't care what you believe. It's the truth."

She shook her head. "There are plenty of times where you wear it and don't give me orders. It wouldn't make a lick of difference if you took it off."

Perhaps she needed _a_ truth. "Wouldn't it, Granger?" he calmly asked. "So it doesn't make a difference that my orders don't have any effect while I don't wear it?"

She stared at him, her lips slightly parted. He decided not to look at her lips and instead focused on her eyes, which were slightly dazed with realization.

"Of course," she breathed.

"And now that you know, I _certainly_ can't take it off," he said, not at all displeased with that conclusion.

She shook her head. "I'm not like that," she softly said. "I promised to do this for a month and I'm not about to go looking for loopholes. I brought this onto myself, and I have to live with whatever happens."

He gaped at her. "Are you completely out of your mind? Or are you just striving for martyrdom? This bet is _about_ loopholes!"

A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Not to me it's not. It's about allowing someone to bait me into a stupid bet and then accepting the consequences."

In an instant he realized that they were both playing a game… but it wasn't the same game. They didn't play by the same rules. It should have been obvious from the beginning, but it hadn't been. Not to him. He hadn't believed that she wasn't secretly doing what he would have done. Now it was suddenly clear to him that she hadn't been lying or pretending; she really just did want to honor her part of the bargain.

This made him strangely uncomfortable.

Abruptly he stood and gathered his things. He felt as if he might suffocate. He couldn't stay another second.

"Be sure to tell Theo that I did as promised when you see him tomorrow," he muttered, before he strode from the room.

* * *

When Hermione was letting herself into the Heads' office the next day, she was feeling strangely apprehensive. She hadn't seen or spoken to Theo, for good reasons, since he had seen her with Draco, and she didn't know how he was going to act towards her. She didn't even know if he would be here, although she suspected he would be. He took his duties seriously. 

She really hoped that he didn't hate her.

The door closed behind her with a soft click and she looked up to see that Theo was already there, seated at his desk. He didn't look up when she entered.

She took this as a bad sign.

Hesitantly, she made her way to her own desk where there were some parchments pertaining to the delaying and possible cancellation of Hogsmeade weekend due to security reasons. It seemed, however, that Professor McGonagall was fairly optimistic that they would be able to pull it off in a couple of weeks, yet she admonished the head students not to get anyone's hopes up.

Really, really fascinating.

So fascinating that Hermione spent a good ten minutes staring at it.

Theo's smooth, deep voice finally broke the silence. "Interesting tactics, Granger. I doubt it will be successful, though."

Hermione's entire body flinched at his voice, and she whipped around to stare at the Slytherin.

"Huh?"

He looked over at her, his face completely void of feeling, same as it had been the first weeks she had known him. Her stomach twisted in a knot.

"The unpleasantness won't go away from you staring at that piece of parchment and I know that you're not that slow a reader."

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

"That you do not read slowly? That hardly warrants an apology." He had deliberately misunderstood.

"No," she murmured. "I'm sorry… about…" Her voice trailed off, but he wasn't about to make it easy on her – he just looked at her with his damned expressionless face. "I'm sorry for what you saw," she finally said.

This time he did not pretend to misunderstand. "Are you sorry that I saw or that it happened? You didn't look very sorry to me."

"I'm sorry that it happened!" she quickly assured him. When he didn't respond, she decided to try to explain. "H-he had made me drink firewhiskey and I was tired – no, exhausted – and unhappy and th-then he was… well… sort of nice? It felt good and I forgot who he was and why I was there in the first place." She realized she was blabbering and wringing her hands and abruptly shut up and hid the hands behind her back.

"I never figured you were one to give in to superficial shows of… affection… from just about anyone that easily. It makes me wonder what made you accept _my_ kiss. Not that it really matters at this time."

"I'm not like that," she whispered, a lump forming in her throat as he continued to be not angry, and not even really cold, but merely indifferent towards her. "You have to believe me, I'm really not like that."

Now was the time for his eyes to turn gentle, for his voice to reassure her.

"But you are," he replied, just as emotionless as before. "You cannot deny your actions. Nor is there any reason for you to do so. There was never really anything between us. You showed that so adequately. One kiss doesn't mean anything."

His words hurt and Hermione's vision grew blurry.

He was treating her as if she were a stranger.

She had really lost him both as a friend and as… more, hadn't she?

"Of course not," she whispered so low that she wasn't even sure he heard her, but she had to turn away rapidly before her tears spilled over and he realized how pathetic she was.

He didn't seem to be done, however.

"I miscalculated," he said. "I should have known right from when you insisted on wearing that bracelet. You _want_ to wear it. You should have just said so; it would have saved everyone a lot of trouble."

She whirled back round to face him. "What?"

He looked her straight in the eye. "I said: You _want_ to wear the bracelet."

* * *

**Next chapter... not so good for the quotes. But here's a small revelation:  
**

**She blinked. "Malfoy is broke?"**


	35. Chapter 35

For several seconds, Hermione just stood gaping at the distant Slytherin in front of her.

"That's just… outrageous!" she finally sputtered. "Why would you say that?"

"I call it as I see it, Granger," Theo calmly replied. "All the evidence points to the fact that you want to wear it."

"You're being absurd! _You_ know how hard this has been!"" she hissed. "At least I thought you did," she bitterly added.

He didn't even blink. "By your own admission, he is not so bad when you're alone. I can see why now."

She shook her head. "You got it all wrong. Nothing ever happened between us." He just looked at her and she amended, "Only that one time."

"But you wanted it to," he said. "You wanted his attentions. What I cannot discern is whether you genuinely like him or whether you're mercenary and just don't realize that he doesn't have access to his family's fortune anymore and maybe never will again."

She blinked. "Malfoy is broke?"

"I guess that answers my question."

Hermione frowned, her shock and need to defend herself rapidly turning to anger and annoyance. It seemed that Theo was very quick to jump to conclusions today. She knew that he knew better than this; it was highly out of character for him to be acting this way. Why he would be making these accusations, she had no idea, though.

"Excuse me if I'm surprised by you telling me that the almighty Master Malfoy doesn't have a knut to his name," she scathingly said. "Heaven forbid that my every reaction shouldn't signal a deep desire to be humiliated by him at every turn."

For a second she thought Theo looked smug of all things. As if he'd been baiting her on purpose.

"So you're saying that you do not wish for that?" he innocently asked.

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Why do I get the feeling that I'm being tested?"

"Why would I test you?"

That was a very good question indeed. She shrugged. "Perhaps you want to see if it really was a fluke or if I'm harboring some hidden desire to be walked all over by Malfoy?"

"Very good," he mumbled. "Very astute. Maybe I want to see exactly that."

"I never liked him. It would never have happened under normal circumstances." She was pacing and wringing her hands again. She couldn't help it. He made her nervous. "God knows I don't want to date Malfoy for _any_ reason," she continued, "but it happened anyway. It was this thing," – she pointed to the bracelet – "that made it happen as far as I can tell. It worked like a… an aphrodisiac or something. Neither of us knew _that_ could happen and I'm quite sure neither of us wants it to happen again."

"I saw you," he very quietly replied. "I walked in just as he bent over you and I kept waiting for you to push him away. You didn't. Quite the opposite. I know all the circumstances, but I cannot even begin to imagine how much it _should_ have taken for you to react like that."

Was that pain briefly showing in his eyes? Hurt? Hermione swallowed. Nott was very slow to trust people, and he had trusted both her and Malfoy. He had trusted them not to hurt him. She could only imagine what it had looked like to him, how it must have felt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

In an instant, his features were schooled into a blank mask. "Don't apologize to me, Granger," he said. "You owe me nothing."

Hermione was so frustrated that she thought it was a wonder she wasn't pulling out her hairs. "He wouldn't have known exactly how to seduce me if he hadn't been able to feel it through the bracelet. And he _wouldn't_ have tried anything if he hadn't been overwhelmed by my feelings as he did it. It started out pretty innocently, really. And… it's Malfoy. Why would he want to seduce a Muggleborn?"

Theo's eyes narrowed at some point during her rant, and she could almost see his mind working. "I did not know he was in a position to be _overwhelmed_ by your feelings," he finally said. "That does change matters a little."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"I said 'a little', Granger. I hardly think these items have the power to make either of you do anything you do not want to. Draco might have gotten a bit carried away because of whatever he sensed in you, but everything else was willing on both of your parts. If it hadn't been, I'm sure the contract would have been broken."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. He didn't mean to force me, I don't think."

"It doesn't say that he has to _mean_ to. Next time you do something foolish like this, have a Slytherin draft your contract for you. You're too naïve when it comes to the written word."

"Does this mean you believe it's true when I say I don't want to wear the bracelet?" she ventured.

He contemplated this for a few seconds. "Maybe," he finally said.

"Are you still angry with me, then?" she softly inquired.

This time he didn't even hide his surprise. "I was not aware I had shown any anger," he carefully said.

She shot him a weary glance. "You're an expert in psychological warfare," she informed him. "You must know how effective your indifference is."

"Effective, possibly; conveying anger, I didn't think so."

"I hurt you and you shut down. It's not that difficult to figure out."

He pressed his lips slightly together. "I don't think we should be having this conversation. Why don't we go over the things for today?"

"Theo…" Hermione began.

"You kissed the person I consider my best friend," he interrupted. "It doesn't matter how you look at it; I can hardly be expected to just pretend it didn't happen."

"But isn't that exactly what you're trying to do?"

He had picked up a piece of parchment and she noticed that his hand was slightly unsteady. "This missive from McGonagall states that we shouldn't get the students' hopes up with promises of a Hogsmeade weekend, but I think we should let them know there's a possibility, just the same," he said, his voice cool and controlled, clearly dismissing her. "As it is, they are constantly asking questions and I think we should let them know just how much trouble the teaching staff is going through to try and give us this weekend. What do you think?"

Hermione sighed dejectedly. He was clearly not willing to discuss their predicament further. "Sure," she muttered. "If you say so."

* * *

Feeling unbelievably weary, Hermione finally let herself out of the office after she had helped settle a few more or less insignificant matters. She sighed. She had a feeling that she may have passed Theo's test, but he was still wary around her. She supposed it was nothing more than she deserved since she _had_ in fact snogged his friend. 

"Oh, look, there she is."

"Took her bloody ages too."

Hermione looked up, startled, to find her two best friends leaning against the opposite wall, obviously waiting for her.

They didn't look very happy.

"Hey guys," she said, looking from one to the other. "What happened?" She had a sinking sensation that she might already know. She had actually begun to hope that they would never find out.

"Why don't you tell us?" Ron asked, looking uncharacteristically stony-faced. "Seems you've been keeping secrets from us!"

"Ron!" Harry admonished. "We don't know for sure yet."

Ron leaned back against the wall in a sulk.

"You're talking about what happened after the Quidditch match, aren't you?" Hermione quietly asked.

Harry shot her an inscrutable look. "So it's true, then?"

She slowly nodded.

"He forced you?" Harry asked in a rather toneless voice.

She shook her head. "I had too much to drink and I… I-I—"

Ron quite suddenly pushed away from the wall, turned his back on the other two and walked away.

"He's hurt," Harry said in an emotionless voice. "Who wouldn't be in his position? For weeks he's believed in you, and then he learns that you've been willingly sitting on that prat's lap, even snogging him publicly, while _he_'s been worried sick about you. And he had to find out from another Slytherin. Four days later. Why didn't you at least tell us?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Hermione quietly asked. "It was _Malfoy_. There was nothing I could say that wouldn't make you despise me."

"Perhaps," he conceded, "but you know what would have been better? Anything that was _not_ finding out from a spiteful Slytherin after several days. Did you know that Ron got in a fight over it? He refused to believe the rumors. It wasn't until… until his sister told him that she knew it to be true that he began thinking there might be some truth to it."

She frowned. There was something slightly odd in the way Harry referred to Ginny as Ron's sister. She really hoped her secret hadn't come between the two of them. "And how do you feel about it?" she asked.

"Me?" Harry asked. "I'm bloody furious, if you must know. You're acting strange, keeping secrets, kissing _Draco Malfoy_. I don't even recognize you anymore. I understood it as far as he might be forcing you to act as you did, but this latest thing? I don't know anymore. I don't actually really care who you snog, that's _your_ business, but you saw Ron and he's my mate too. You should get your priorities straight. Before it's too late."

Hermione swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. "I see," she whispered.

She did see. But there was little else she could do. Draco was going to do whatever Draco was going to do, no matter how much she pleaded for leniency. He didn't care if she lost her friends. He might actually be happy about it.

"It shouldn't be that complicated, Hermione."

"No…" she mumbled. "It shouldn't." She sighed. "I have to go. I'm already running late."

"You're going to see _him_, aren't you?"

"Nothing's changed," she said. "The deal is still the same as before. I have to go."

"Or what?"

"You know I can't say."

With that, she slowly made her way down to the dungeons.

* * *

Draco was frowning, leaning back in his chair and glaring at his door. She was sure taking her time today. She should really know better, but from what he was sensing, she probably didn't care just now. 

He was confused.

She had wanted to be allowed to be with Theo, hadn't she? Theo had certainly wanted him to allow her to be with him. So why wasn't she feeling disgustingly happy? He had been waiting for that feeling, feeling sick to his stomach and unable to concentrate on his homework, as he had waited for that moment where it would be clear that Theo and Granger were now an item. But it hadn't come.

She was upset and unhappy.

It just didn't make sense.

She finally pushed his door open and shuffled inside. She looked tired. She looked as if she was just about to give up. His frown deepened.

"What happened?" he asked.

She started as if she had forgotten he would be there. He wondered where her mind had been at.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "It was… my friends… they detained me. I can come earlier tomorrow to make up for it if you like."

He blinked, not sure what she was talking about. After a few seconds he realized that she had thought he had asked her why she was late. He probably should have, but that wasn't what was on his mind.

"Yes, yes," he said, waving a hand. "You do that. But what happened with Theo? It didn't go as I expected."

"Oh." Her face grew shuttered, but he could feel the dejection in her again. "It went very much as _I_ expected."

"And what did you expect?"

She shrugged slightly. "That he would hate me for what happened."

He stared at her. "Theo does not _hate_ you."

"He's angry with me and he thinks that… that…" She bit her bottom lip and he forced himself to focus on her eyes. Her bleak eyes.

He felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. "That what?" he quietly asked.

"That I _meant_ to… to go after _you_," she sighed.

"WHAT?" He shot to his feet. "That's ridiculous! You didn't want that to happen anymore than I did!" Something nagged at him and he pushed it away, unwilling to identify it.

She shrugged. "I told him so. I don't think he's convinced."

"I can't believe this!" he said, running his hands through his hair and pacing. "He blamed _me_ for it and so I tried to make it up to him by removing my restrictions and now he doesn't even _want_ you? Doesn't he realize how—" He stopped himself by faking a cough. No, Theo would not realize how difficult it was for him to allow this. Hell, Draco didn't even understand why it was so hard.

Hermione had crossed her arms across her chest—_eyes, Draco, eyes_—and was now scowling at him.

"What?" he asked.

She placed her hands on her hips, anger coloring her cheeks. He decided that some point beyond her left shoulder was a good place to look when looking in her direction at all.

"I'm not some parcel for you to give to your friends to make up for your mistakes!" she growled. "Nobody asked _me_ what _I_ wanted!"

He frowned slightly. "I saw you with him. If you don't want him, you sure make a good pretense of it."

"Funny," she replied. "That sounds rather like what Theo said in regards to _you_."

He stopped pacing, his heart pounding in the queerest fashion. He chanced a glance at her. She had crossed her arms again.

"Yeah… but… he was wrong…" he muttered. _Wasn't he?_

"Of course he was wrong," she said, making him sigh – with relief, of course. "But so could you be!"

"I'm fairly sure I'm not," he said, swallowing. "I know how you feel about Theo rejecting you just now."

"Ok," she admitted. "I suppose you're slightly better informed. But it wasn't just the thing with Theo."

He felt tired and just wanted her to go away. Far, far away from him. "What was it then?" he sighed as he sat down again.

"My friends," she said as if he should know. He supposed she _had_ mentioned those losers, but he'd hardly been interested.

"I thought they had decided that I was the one forcing you to do everything?"

"You _are_ the one forcing me to do everything," she reminded him, "but they heard about… the incident… and they aren't happy."

"They didn't know?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "No wonder they're pissed off if they just found out."

She shrugged. "And so they are." She sighed and looked away.

He looked at her for a few seconds. She looked bone-weary. "Didn't you just tell them I forced you again?" he asked.

"That would be lying."

"Then lie."

The impudent witch just stuck her nose in the air. "I do not lie to my friends!" she scoffed. "And since when are you one to take the fall?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not. But I don't care the least bit what your moronic friends think of me. It would be easier for you if you just told them I forced you."

"Since when do you care about making things easy for me?"

"Since never," he conceded. "But I'm not gaining from this, either, am I?"

She pursed her lips in thought before looking at him suspiciously. "Aren't you? I thought you would _love _destroying my friendships."

His lips parted slightly as he realized she was right. It was what he was supposed to want. And he hadn't even considered that.

_Oh, fuck._

* * *

**Uh... too tired to find a proper preview... Just going to go with an exchange I personally find funny.  
**

**"So, what did ferret-face want you to tell me?" he asked in a forced cheery voice.**

**"Ron!" Hermione softly admonished. "That insult got old years ago."**

**"Yes, well, it's the nicest one I can come up with at the moment. The rest all somehow involve his parentage or sexual orientation."**


	36. Chapter 36

**Dear Reviewers,**

**1) Saying nice things is, of course, always good. Only nice reviews don't harm anyone. They can even be constructive if you make sure to point out what you especially liked in a chapter, making the author aware of what was a hit (and by omission, what was not). There are, however, other ways of being constructive, and also ways of just being plain destructive, that I would like to point out.**

**2) Demands/requests for future happenings are not nice and they are truly destructive. They are taxing for the author. Musings and hopes are not a part of this; your musing and hopes may flatter the author because you actually care to think about the story, BUT plain unsolicited advice/demandings on where to go next... do not ever go there! It is highly offensive to the author and gives the impression that you think s/he has no clue where s/he is going with their own story.**

**3) It is understandable if you do not always have only praise for a story. Concrit (constructive criticism) is something that any author should be delighted to get in any form - and some of us actually are. However, saying "this story moves too slow" or "I hate your Hermione" or "you are unoriginal" etc. is NOT concrit, it's just lame and, indeed, destructive. Instead consider being a bit more specific as to what the problem is.**

**-- Be as SPECIFIC and as OBJECTIVE as possible when you give concrit. If you cannot give this kind of concrit? That's fine, but don't bash the story. (And also, keeping the tone civil is always appreciated)  
**

**4) Keep ANY and ALL criticism fixed on the STORY. You don't like the author? Fine. Don't like the author. You don't like the author's A/Ns? Fine. You don't like the author's A/Ns. Criticizing the author's person is HIGHLY destructive, not to mention condescending and rude. Just because this is the internet does not give you leave to attack anyone personally, and it's not making you look good either (especially since the ones doing this never have the balls to sign in). You do not have the right to censor anyone as a human being. You will never HAVE the right to censor anyone else as a human being; not here, not anywhere. Bring up your children, make them decent human beings, but if you find other adults crass? Do what the rest of us do, ignore them and move on. That's life. Deal with it and focus on the important part - the story. Believe me, if any author is being harsh in their A/Ns there were several people who asked for it already. You probably have no clue what we have to listen to in reviews sometimes and, indeed, we DO have the right to let our frustrations show in any way we choose. YOU, on the other hand, have the right to ignore it or stop reading our stories.**

**In other news...**

**I have decided that I probably won't post on ffnet anymore after The Bracelet is done. My rating is too high (often MA where M is the highest here) and, well, I find that ffnet in many ways is a case of quantity over quality and, as you may have guessed, some people are making me extremely weary.**

**And as some of you already know, I'm pregnant. It's in very early stages, but, indeed, I am. Which has contributed to my decision to not post here after The Bracelet is done. It's simply something I do not need. I'm setting up a comm on LJ and when it's up, I will give you the name and you can sign up to LJ for free and join it if you really want to read all my fics. Otherwise, you can find some at Granger Enchanted, some at Quiet Ones, some at Coloured Grey etc...**

* * *

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco. "Well? How are you not gaining from making it seem like I'm madly in lust with you?"

_Don't say it like that…_

He shook his head as if to clear it. What the hell was wrong with him today? He was ogling her – he really hoped she hadn't noticed that – and had reacted ridiculously strong to the thought of her maybe actually having _wanted_ their kiss; and now he was even trying to help her _keep_ her moronic friends, even to the point of not considering that it would serve his purposes better to just let things stay as they were.

And now she had called him on it.

He cleared his throat, stalling a bit for time. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" he said, frantically searching for something that might be deemed obvious. Or just anything that might make sense. "It happened whether you wanted it or not. The damage is done. What difference does it make if they think I forced you?"

It was lame reasoning. Even he could hear it. He fought back a wince.

"It makes all the difference," she said, speaking slowly as if to a child. "If they think it was something I did willingly, they will be upset with me. If they think that you forced me, they will only be upset with you. You want them to be upset with_me_."

He glared at her. How dared she talk down to him? "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I am past all that?" he haughtily asked. "I don't give a damn about you _or_ your friends anymore. This thing is beginning to bore me."

"Really?" she asked, her blasted arms still folded under her breasts, offering him the view at an advantage.

He closed his eyes and cursed under his breath.

Either she didn't notice his odd behavior or she ignored it. "Then why won't you release me from the bet? Call it even?"

"Because we're not even," he said, turning to his desk. Thank Merlin for homework. "The deal was a month, and I'll take a month."

"But what are you going to do if you're past tormenting me and my friends?"

He felt like strangling her just to make her shut up. "Maybe I'll torment you some more just to oblige you," he growled.

"You could make use of me," she offered.

"What use could I possibly have for you," he scoffed, willing himself _not_ to think of any uses.

"Homework," she suggested.

"I do _not_ need you to do my homework!" She was annoying him again. He was _glad_ she was annoying him again. When annoyed, he didn't think of stupid things like breasts and… uses.

Now it was her turn to scoff. "I wasn't offering to _do_ it! I could help you with it; help you learn some of these things."

"You wish to be my tutor? Why?"

She shrugged. "If it will keep you off my back…"

"Fine," he heard himself say. Damn it, he didn't want to be spending so much time being close to her. He felt her perk up a bit, ever the homework enthusiast. "But not today," he added. No, definitely not today. "I will meet you at the library tomorrow."

* * *

There was one thing Draco had failed to consider when he had told her to meet him at the library: Public meant that _people_ were about. People who stared when he walked up to Hermione's table and drew out a chair. People who whispered when he sat down and took out his books. People who definitely were not as intimidated as he could wish by his snarl.

Hermione sniggered.

He glared at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. You should have known this would happen."

He scowled. "Why aren't you bothered?"

"Because they already believe much worse of me, remember?" she reminded him and pushed a small pouch towards him.

"What's this?" he asked, picking it up and frowning as he felt the unmistakable weight of money. He opened it. Ten galleons. Why was she giving him money?

"My share," she said. "Sorry it took so long. I almost forgot about it."

"Your… share?" he asked, feeling extremely confused. "Of what?"

"Cornfoot's fee," she said matter-of-factly. "You said you paid him twenty galleons and my share was ten, remember?"

He scowled at her and pushed the pouch back. "I wasn't serious. Keep your bloody money."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a freeloader."

"I never said you were!" He sighed. She really was annoying. "_I_ paid him. _I_ made that choice. _I_ wanted the bet pushed through before you changed your mind. Believe me; I have easily gotten twenty galleons' worth by now."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Nevertheless, I'm in it just as much as you are. I want to pay my share."

Why the fuck was she so insistent?

"You can pay for the next bet," he growled. "Right now I would appreciate it if you shut up about the stupid money and tutored me instead."

Her lips tightened in a frown. Well, too bad. He didn't need her galleons, and why would she want to give them to him, anyway? He shook his head. Gryffindors. Muggleborns. Grangers.

Suddenly she smiled, and he was instantly wary.

"Ok," she said. "Never mind that for now."

"Never mind it at _all_," he replied.

She dismissed him with the wave of a hand. "… for now. Tell me what it is you need done."

He stared at her in exasperation.

* * *

When Ron entered the library an hour later, he wasn't immediately noticed by the two of them. He stopped to watch, clenching his teeth and fighting down the urge to hit something or some_one_.

He had to be mature about this, or he would not only lose the girl he loved but also one of his very closest friends. If only it had been anyone but _him_. What was she doing with that snake? Could she really be happy with him?

Even as he asked himself that, Hermione's face split into a smile that left him breathless. It always had. For a long time he'd just been too stupid to realize he had to act on it and now… it was too late. At least for now.

He sighed.

Hermione giggled, making Malfoy scowl at her, but it seemed that even he was half-hearted about it.

Looking on the bright side, a relationship between Hermione and Malfoy couldn't possibly last. Here at Hogwarts it would be difficult for them, but once they finished school it would be plain impossible for them to keep going. They were simply too different, and Malfoy had that whole rich pureblood bigot ideal to live up to.

Ron just hoped that Hermione wouldn't be too hurt by it.

But he would be there to pick up the pieces. He would always be there. He loved her more than anything else. He would just have to let her make her own mistakes. Even if they hurt like the very devil. This wasn't about him; this was about her figuring out what she wanted, what she needed.

He just hoped that he would be what she needed in the end.

Hermione leaned in over the books again, obviously taking great pains to explain something to Malfoy. Malfoy also leaned in and frowned, apparently trying to pay attention, but then he looked up at Hermione's face, too close to his own, and it was evident that all thoughts of homework immediately fled his mind.

At least to Ron it was evident. He knew exactly what was going through Malfoy's mind. He'd been in that position countless times before himself.

Hermione didn't notice. She never noticed.

He decided it was time to approach them.

* * *

"Hermione?"

Draco felt Hermione stiffen both physically and emotionally as the Weasel approached them.

He didn't know whether to curse or thank the redhead for the interruption.

He decided that cursing him would be more fun.

"Could I… could I talk to you for a second? Alone?" Weasley ventured at Hermione, briefly scowling at Draco.

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think now is such a good time…" Hermione muttered, avoiding eye contact.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "You can do without her for a few minutes, can't you, mate?" He had directed the last bit at Draco.

Draco stared. He had _never_ been even _close_ to being the mate of anyone even _remotely_ associated with a Weasley.

"Ron…" Hermione sighed. "Can't it wait till later?"

She shot Draco a nervous glance and Draco realized why she was putting the Weasel off. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't want to talk to him. It was that Draco had the power to stop it and possibly humiliate her in front of her friend-cum-would-be-lover.

"Do you want to talk to him?" he heard himself ask. It was actually hard to discern whether she did. It felt like she dreaded any conversation she might have with freckle-face.

She swallowed and nodded.

Draco didn't like it. He really didn't like it. He considered sending Weasley on his way, but then he had to ask himself why he would care what they had to talk about.

In the end, he gathered his books and stood.

"You know what to tell him," he reminded her before he left for his dormitory.

* * *

"You've got me now," Hermione said after Draco had disappeared, hoping to make light of the situation.

"Have I?" Ron quietly asked.

She had to look away. "Figure of speech," she muttered.

"I know."

There was an awkward silence.

"Look, Hermione…" Ron finally began, taking a deep breath and then pushing on. "I still don't understand. I thought I had it figured out but… obviously I hadn't… but I meant what I said last week. I just wanted this to be clear. I'm always your friend."

Last week? She did a quick calculation. Ten days. Had it really only been ten days since then? It felt like a lifetime.

"I can still explain soon," she muttered feeling acutely uncomfortable. "And you're not ok with any of this."

Ron shrugged. "If I said I wasn't upset that you'd choose someone like Malfoy over me, I would be lying. Friends can be upset, can't they? Friends can even maybe need you to leave them alone for a while… but that doesn't mean they won't be there for you."

Hermione felt a lump form in her throat and she couldn't respond.

"So, what did ferret-face want you to tell me?" he asked in a forced cheery voice.

"Ron!" Hermione softly admonished. "That insult got old years ago."

"Yes, well, it's the nicest one I can come up with at the moment. The rest all somehow involve his parentage or sexual orientation."

"Ron…" She sighed deeply.

"That's still my name, no need to use it up. You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, that." She shrugged. "He wants me to tell you that he forced me."

"_What_? But you said that he didn't! Why would you lie to us?"

She noticed rather dispassionately that he was becoming flushed from anger at Malfoy's supposed crime.

"I wouldn't."

Ron stared at her. "Do you mean to tell me that f—that Malfoy wants you to lie to us by saying you were _not_ willing?"

"Yes, that is exactly what he wants."

"Why? Does he have a death wish?"

She shrugged again. "I don't think so. I think he's actually tired of all the fighting."

He snorted. "Right. This is _Malfoy_, Hermione."

"So? He's sort of human too."

Ron contemplated for a second how to break this to her. "_Sort of_ being the operative words," he finally said.

Hermione sighed. "Well, I know _I'm_ tired. I'm so tired of nobody getting along and all the competing and insulting and the constant _warring_. And this is not even a real war. We will have that to contend with soon enough, won't we?"

"Look, Hermione… Some things are just like that. You can't be everyone's friend. You can't expect everyone to be _your_ friend."

"I know _that_," she scoffed. "But you don't have to be friends to be civil."

"I know that you might feel… differently… about Malfoy now, but—"

"This isn't about Malfoy. It's about _me_. I want to get along."

"Have you completely forgotten what he's been doing to you?" Ron heatedly asked. "Even if you can forgive him for your humiliations… I can't."

She looked away. "No. I haven't forgotten. But someone has to try and stop the feuding."

"You're much too good for a Slytherin," he sighed.

"Ron…"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry. You're not too good for _a_ Slytherin; you're too good for _this_ Slytherin."

"Ron!"

"You know how I feel about him. I'll never like him. Don't ask me to."

"But you'll always like me, right?" she asked a bit cheekily, trying to elevate the mood.

"No," he responded. "You, I'll always love."

* * *

Hermione was feeling emotionally exhausted after Ron finally left the library. Not being able to tell the truth about the nature of her relationship with Draco was really hard. She wanted to reassure Ron. Yet, in a strange way, it was probably better like this.

She loved Ron.

She really, really did.

He was her dearest friend and she would gladly lay down her life for him.

But… she wasn't _in_ love with him.

She couldn't see herself marrying him, having children with him, growing old with him…. She had tried imagining it and realized that she simply could not. She needed something more. She didn't know what it had to be more of, because she knew there was a deep caring and affection between Ron and herself that many couples could only dream of, but she needed _more_.

The cover of her supposed physical relationship with Draco gave her the distance she needed. The excuse she needed to turn Ron down. She didn't know if she would have the strength to really do it otherwise. She hated that look of hurt in his eyes.

She sighed. Some show of bravery.

After a few minutes, Hermione slowly got up and collected her things. It was time to get back. She smirked slightly to herself as she collected her quills and parchments. Her pouch was gone. She had slipped it into Draco's bag. She wondered what would happen when he found out. It was really just easier if he accepted the money, but he could be so bloody stubborn sometimes. It was one of his many, many unfortunate traits.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, hurried across the library and out the door and bumped straight into someone.

"Mmpf."

"Hey, watch where you're going!" a rather high-pitched and very annoyed voice exclaimed.

Hermione's eyes widened. This couldn't be. This would be the last place she would expect to find…

Pansy wrinkled her nose. "Oh, it's you…" she said in a disgusted voice. "Well, good. I was looking for you. Let's see about getting that bracelet off, shall we?"

* * *

**Preview:**

**"So it was just you, then?" he asked, feeling unaccountably disappointed.**

**She didn't reply, but lowered her gaze to the book in front of her.**

**"_Answer_ me, Granger! Did you do this on your own?" It made him extremely angry that he had to order her.**

**"No!" she replied through gritted teeth. "It was Parkinson."**


	37. Chapter 37

**Note 1: Yes, I had to block anonymous reviewers. It was something that I did not want to do, but I simply got sick of the anonymous wank I was receiving. I know there are nice anons out there who would like to review, but you'll just have to sign in, sign up, or send me happy thoughts instead.**

**Note 2: Thank you for all the congratulations and the continued support.**

**Note 3: A lot of people have asked me for links to where I _will_ post. Let me assure you that Bracelet still has far to go and at some point when I have better time/less fatigue, I will update my info (purge it, really) and include the links to the sites where my fics are/will be, and I will let you know in an A/N when that happens.**

**On with it... **

* * *

Hermione just stared. She didn't quite know what to make of this.

"Well, come on, then," Pansy said, grabbing Hermione and literally dragging her off. 

"Wait… just… wait a minute!" Hermione sputtered, digging in her heels, but Pansy, in spite of her petite frame and girlish looks, was actually quite strong, so she was dragged several steps before she managed to stop the other girl.

"You want to do this out here where everyone can see or in there?" Pansy coolly asked, motioning towards an empty room. "Because I honestly could do without the audience."

Hermione groaned in defeat and went past Pansy into the room. Great. Just what she needed to make this day better – a private session with Malfoy's jealous ex-girlfriend.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" she asked as Pansy followed her in and closed the door behind them.

"I told you – I want to get that bracelet off you."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms. Telling Pansy that she didn't _want_ it off would only result in another conflict, something that Hermione definitely could do without.

"Well, my first choice would obviously be to cut off your hand, but I'm thinking that that wouldn't go unnoticed, so I abandoned that idea… for now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Forget it. The only way you're getting it off is by persuading Malfoy to take it off me."

Pansy raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "So formal you are. What? He could snog you but not give you leave to use his first name?"

"I don't _want_ leave to do anything. I just want all you damn Slytherins to _leave me alone_!"

"Oh, I think I speak on behalf of most of us when I say: We really don't want anything more to do with you either. But I want this thing off you."

She had walked closer to Hermione and now her well-manicured hand grabbed her wrist quite forcefully to inspect the bracelet. Hermione let her, knowing that there was nothing to be done, and figuring it would be easier to just allow Pansy to figure that out for herself.

While waiting for the Slytherin girl to reach some sort of conclusion, Hermione took her time in studying her. Really studying her. She hadn't actually done that before. This had always just been the unpleasant blonde girl, who was a part of Malfoy's crowd. 

She was actually pretty. Really pretty. 

Her hair was smooth, and a pretty blonde color, and looked to be soft to the touch. She probably used conditioner and a hundred other products to make it so agreeable. Her ears were pierced and she wore tiny diamond studs… was that silver or platinum? Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to work it out. She still couldn't see the difference, really. She even wore make-up of the discreet kind that you didn't really notice, which only served to enhance her own looks. Hermione could also just barely catch the scent of what was undoubtedly a very expensive perfume.

She did a quick comparison with herself in her head. She really only washed and tamed her own – dull, brownish and hopelessly wild – hair, often failing miserably in the taming. She didn't use conditioner. She didn't have her ears pierced. She didn't pluck her brows. Her manicure consisted of keeping her nails at a manageable length. She never wore make-up. She never wore perfume.

Why the hell was Parkinson feeling threatened? Obviously, _she_ was the one that any boy would want. Pretty and well-groomed and well-scented and… girly. Hermione was just some sort of lump filled with bookish knowledge. The only way that any boy would ever want her was through liking her as a friend first. 

Not that she minded, she reminded herself. Relationships based on friendships were better, deeper, more stable, less shallow… but she would always be in the shadow of prettier girls. Girls like Lavender Brown and Pansy Parkinson.

"I think I got this," Pansy suddenly said, drawing out her wand.

Hermione barely had time to shoot her a wary glance, before Pansy mumbled something, lightly tapping the bracelet, causing it to spark and jolt Hermione quite painfully, leaving an angry red mark.

She jerked her hand out of Pansy's grip with a hiss.

"Ok, I hadn't got it," Pansy said, withdrawing a piece of parchment from her pocket. "But I have a few more ideas…"

"No!" Hermione said quite emphatically. "No more ideas!"

"Don't be such a wuss," Pansy scolded. "You want this off as well, don't you?" Her voice turned sharp at the end, leaving no question about the hidden warning.

"No, I don't! I made a deal. Whatever issues you have with Malfoy, you work them out with _him_. But unless he's the one to free me, I'm keeping this on!"

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "So it's true then? You're delusional enough to _want_ to wear it?"

"Delusional?" Hermione asked, slightly confused.

"Listen to me," Pansy hissed in a low voice. "You may be good enough for Draco to snog; you have this whole forbidden thing going for you, I suppose. But at the end of the day you're still just some average-looking Mudblood commoner. He will never settle for _any_ of that, let alone the whole package."

Hermione crossed her arms again, this time feeling not only angry but also a bit stung at Pansy's assessment of her, which eerily mirrored her own. So what if she didn't have the same kind of looks that Pansy had? She had _brains_. And she didn't care whether Malfoy or any other boy wanted her. Especially not if their reasoning would be so shallow.

"I think you misunderstood something," she coolly said. "I do not _want_ your _ex_."

At this Pansy snorted. "Of course you don't. That's what I saw. You not wanting him."

Hermione's cheeks reddened. She hadn't actually been aware that Pansy had seen them. "I was plastered. I would probably have snogged _you_ given the right incentive."

Pansy wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, sorry, not into that."

"I wasn't offering," Hermione growled. "Just saying… well… get over it! And if you can't? Take it out on Malfoy. _He_ is the cheating bastard, not me!"

Having had quite enough, she pushed past Pansy and back into the hallway.

She was about to go back to the Gryffindor Tower, when she changed her mind. She wanted to be alone. She _would_ be alone in her room, but before that she had to brave the common room, which potentially held Harry, Ginny, Ron, or any combination thereof. She wasn't in the mood for it. She couldn't handle it right now. She couldn't handle any more of those _looks_, judging her for her mistake, assessing her motives, and measuring her, finding her wanting.

She was just so tired.

So instead, she went back to the closing library and found a quiet corner, where nobody would bother her as she was hiding behind a big, dusty, old tome.

* * *

How Hermione had managed to make his homework seem so easy, Draco couldn't fathom. He was staring at his books and groaning. He just didn't _see_ it. He bent down over his bag to find the parchment she had made for him with a comprehensive overview. Fine, she was better at this than he was. That didn't mean he was stupid. It just meant that he didn't care about the 99 uses of salamander blood or any other nitpicky knowledge that everyone else in their year had already forgotten.

As he yanked out the parchment, a small pouch followed and fell to the floor.

"What the…?" He narrowed his eyes. What cheek! Did she honestly think she would win their little discussion so easily?

Homework forgotten, he grabbed the pouch and left his room and the dungeons, making his way back up to the library. He knew she was there. She had briefly left it at some point – and he needed to confront her about what the hell she thought she had been doing then – but now she had returned and was feeling as gloomy as ever.

She hadn't felt gloomy earlier. Not until Weasley interrupted.

He shouldn't have allowed it. It was annoying when she was gloomy.

He found her all but hiding at a table in the far corner of the library, her back to him, and her nose, of course, buried in a huge volume on who-knew-what.

"Oi, Granger!" he said before reaching her side. "What do you think this is?"

She started at the sound of her name and then, as he reached her, she turned her face away from him. He frowned. She couldn't even look at him now?

"What do you want now, Malfoy?" she asked in a slightly thick voice.

His frown deepened. Something was definitely off. 

He dropped the pouch on the table and bent over her shoulder to growl, "What is this supposed to mean?"

She stiffened and turned a bit more away from him. "Oh, that." It was hardly more than a mumble. "Right. Won't happen again. Sorry."

Just like that? She wasn't going to argue with him? He straightened and slowly went around the table, until he had her at an angle, where she couldn't hide behind her mop of hair.

And then he stared.

It wasn't that the change was all that big, but she had clearly been crying.

"What happened?" he demanded. Granger did not _cry_… did she?

She glared back defiantly. "_You_ happened," she replied.

"I've been happening for weeks; you've been blubbering all this time?" he haughtily asked.

She glared at him. "As always, you're the epitome of everything that is compassion."

He crossed his arms. "So… what? You're disappointed that Weasley failed in getting the bracelet off you?"

Her mouth fell open. "H-how did you know about that?"

He showed her his hand, moving the ring slightly so she could see the angry red mark that looked like her own. "I felt the fucking backlash, Granger. Am I supposed to just ignore this?"

"It wasn't Ron," she said. "Leave him out of it."

"So it was just you, then?" he asked, feeling unaccountably disappointed.

She didn't reply, but lowered her gaze to the book in front of her.

"_Answer_ me, Granger! Did you do this on your own?" It made him extremely angry that he had to order her.

"No!" she replied through gritted teeth. "It was Parkinson."

This took him by surprise. Pansy had remained passive for so long that he hadn't considered she might start acting now.

"What else did she do?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Nothing much. Insulted me, mostly."

"And this brought you into this… state?" He wrinkled his nose.

She shot him a condescending look. "Of course not. Since when do I care what that… girl… thinks?" 

The way she said the word 'girl' clearly indicated that she was thinking of any number of other – less flattering – nouns to describe Pansy with. Pretty brave of her, all things considered.

He scowled at her. "Watch it," he warned. "I like her a hell of a lot better than I like you – even in spite of what she tried to pull."

"Don't tell me that you're actually going to believe that I wasn't interested in Parkinson taking the bracelet off me?" she scoffed. "I might die from the shock."

"Somehow I find that easier to believe than you working _with_ Pansy," he muttered.

"Could you leave me alone, then?" she asked in a weary voice.

She clearly didn't want to tell him what was going on. Since it had nothing to do with Pansy – provided she wasn't lying on that account – it had to be something to do with the Weasel. 

He could, of course, force her to tell him the truth. He could make her tell him whatever it was that had upset her by ruthlessly ordering her to tell him exactly what was going on. 

It would cure his curiosity.

And it would probably upset her more.

He would have to endure more of her gloominess.

In the end, he just left her alone. Again.

* * *

Friday. Day 21. Also the 14th of November, if one had to be specific about it. It was a grey and dreary day that matched Hermione's mood perfectly.

Three weeks of this would depress anyone.

Draco had actually left her alone for most of the day, only briefly telling her she needn't meet him today. This was new. Perhaps he truly was getting sick of the whole thing. 

She had seen him fighting with Pansy. 

He apparently didn't appreciate someone trying to take his toys from him – even if he _were_ done playing with them. She would really have loved to have heard what was said between the two of them, but alas, it wasn't possible for her to get close enough to eavesdrop. 

She just hoped it was nasty on both parts.

A girl could dream.

Ron was avoiding her. Ginny was glaring at her during mealtimes. Harry tried to act normal, but it was clearly forced.

She was in Hell.

After classes, she dumped her bag back at her room, before leaving the tower again. She simply wasn't in the mood to be where she could be found. This unfortunately also left out the library. Instead, she found some rarely used corridor on the back of the castle's third floor. The windowsills were low, wide, and carved out of the sturdy castle wall itself, so she took a seat in one of those, looking at the cloudy sky and just… not thinking.

It was nice to not think for once.

Her peace lasted for all of an hour before Draco sought her out.

"What is it now?" she quietly asked.

"I wasn't aware that you were going to spend your free time sulking," he calmly replied.

"Does it matter _how_ I spend it? If you had special requirements, then you should have let me know."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm letting you know now. Get your cloak."

She slowly stood. "You're sending me outside? Why?"

"I have practice. If you're going to sulk, I'm going to make it fun for me."

She shook her head, not really understanding. "I hate Quidditch and it's _cold_ outside."

"Which is why I recommend getting your cloak."

"Can't you just leave me _alone_?"

"I tried that and you just sulked anyway. Now we're doing this my way."

"What? By making sure I keep hating your guts?"

He smiled tightly. "Exactly. Now, get your cloak."

* * *

It wasn't cold. It was freezing. Hermione's face felt like someone was pricking at it with tiny ice needles – that was, in the parts that hadn't gone numb. The constant wind didn't help. Or the drizzle. Did it always drizzle when they were practising? She seemed to remember that it had the last time he'd made her watch too.

She looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. She could hardly see anything. How could they? And it must be at least three times as cold up there. She shivered at the thought, drawing her cloak tighter around her.

Slytherins must really be cold-blooded.

She wasn't sitting in the stands, but rather standing right in front of them. This wasn't actually Malfoy's doing. She just found that being in the stands brought back some pretty unpleasant memories of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. Besides, this way she could move a bit when she got too cold, and lean against the stands when she got bored. She got bored a lot.

Suddenly someone cried out loud enough that Hermione could hear it over the wind. She looked up, narrowing her eyes to see what was going on. The Bludger came out of nowhere and hit her squarely in the chest, stealing her breath and knocking her back against the stands with enough force to break the boards.

She felt a sharp pain in her chest and shoulder before there was nothing.

* * *

**Up next... **

**"You need to go to the Hospital wing," Blaise quietly said.**

**"N-no," Draco gasped. "I'm fine, really. Just a little… winded…"**

**"This is 'fine'?" Blaise asked, showing Draco his hand. It was bloody.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Note 1: I think this is pretty overdue, so I'd just like to thank my betas/go-to people for always giving me such nice feedback. Alphabetically, thanks kerri240879, manda0610, MargotLeFaye, Maz, MissNibbles, Ravenesque, Svelte Rose and TomFeltonIsKindaHot. You all rock!**

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* * *

Not three seconds after the Bludger knocked Hermione out cold, Draco reached the ground and jumped off his broom.

"Vaisey, you _imbecile_!" he shouted. "50 points from Slytherin and I'm reporting this to Slughorn!"

"Oi! What for?" It was Goyle asking, but Draco was too busy running over to Hermione's lifeless form to care.

He hadn't considered this. If Crabbe had still been Beater, he might have, but Crabbe had been suspended from the team last season due to some rather unsubtle illegal maneuvers and had failed making it onto the team this year, when Vaisey had decided to try for Beater instead of Chaser.

He couldn't get to her. She had gone clean through the front of the stand, and was now covered in debris.

And he felt absolutely nothing from the ring. It was as if someone had turned it off. He dreaded thinking about what that could mean.

If only he had let her sulk on third floor.

"Baddock! Pritchard! A little help here!" he yelled.

The two younger Slytherins made their way over and laboriously helped him uncover Hermione by removing pieces of wood that hadn't broken clean off as she went through.

"She's bleeding," said Baddock. "We should get her to the hospital wing."

"I'm not sure we should move her," Pritchard muttered. "Perhaps we should send for Madam Pomfrey?"

"Have you all gone completely mental?" Vaisey haughtily asked. "We're supposed to be practicing here! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the pitch this close to the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match? Those losers actually think their efforts matter."

Draco gritted his teeth, ignoring the idiot, and crouched down next to Hermione to feel her pulse. It was beating, thank Merlin.

It was hard to see her injuries in the dark, so he took out his wand to look her over. He was no expert in medicine, but it was quite obvious that she had a piece of wood through her left shoulder.

"What do you think?" Baddock asked.

How was he supposed to know?

Before he could reply, he felt the pain returning as she was fighting her way back to consciousness. Definitely her shoulder. And her chest where the Bludger had hit her. But it didn't seem like she had any mortal wounds.

He made a decision.

* * *

Hermione slowly came to, to see a bunch of Slytherin Quidditch players looming over her. Some looked annoyed or resentful, some looked genuinely concerned, and Malfoy was as white as a sheet.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" one of the others taunted. "Can't stand the sight of a little blood?"

She sat up, slightly frowning. Blood? She looked down herself and noticed a few cuts and bruises, not to mention the thing sticking through her shoulder. Her eyes widened. Slowly she grabbed a hold of it with the other hand and pulled it free. She didn't really feel it. She decided she must be in shock to feel so numb, but she'd definitely live. Draco moaned and really did look as if he was going to be sick.

"I'm all right," she said, a little surprised at the truth. "I feel fine."

"Go to the hospital wing," Draco whispered. He seemed to be shivering a little. Well, he must really make a poor Death Eater, if he couldn't even stand the sight of a few scratches. Ok, maybe it was more than a few scratches, but she really didn't feel any pain and it wasn't bleeding _that_ badly.

"It's really nothing," she said again.

"I said _go_!" he growled. "And m-make sure she gives you something for the pain. Even if you don't feel it."

He looked as if he was about to faint. He was even paler than before if that were possible.

She shrugged and he seemed to gasp.

"Well, then," said a rather unpleasant-looking person. "If she's all better now, what about we get back to practicing?"

"I'm done," Draco replied, staggering to his feet. "I'm going."

And he did just that.

* * *

Draco walked unsteadily towards the changing room, but by the time he reached it, he realized that he was in no condition to change just now, so he just grabbed his cloak and made his way slowly towards the castle.

He had never been in so much agony before in his entire life. If he breathed too deeply, he was rewarded with a stabbing pain, and his shoulder burned like the very devil.

The edge of his vision was growing black and he had to grit his teeth and focus on staying alert. He had taken too much. He would be stupid to not realize that, but it wasn't as if he'd tried this before! So, instead of opening the bond a little and letting some of her pain trickle over on him, he'd just ripped it open and received a flood. All of it, if he were to judge by her behavior and the way she was even now in no great hurry, as she was walking through the castle.

He dragged himself up the front steps.

At least the dungeons weren't that far. He was so glad that he didn't live in a tower. He would never be able to make it there.

"Oi! Draco!"

Draco stopped right inside the Entrance Hall and tried to school his features into something that didn't look as if he were suffering greatly from his momentary stupidity. Nobody needed to know this; not even Blaise, who was the one making his way down a set of stairs with a book in his hand.

"What's up, mate?" Blaise asked as he caught up with Draco, giving him a rather forceful pat on the shoulder.

Draco didn't reply as he was too busy crying out and dropping to his knees, leaning heavily on his good arm, so he wouldn't go face first on the floor.

Blaise had hit the exact spot on Draco's shoulder where Hermione had been impaled. Draco had never felt such excruciating pain before. Briefly he wondered why it would hurt on _his_ body, but just arrived at the conclusion that this really had been a very, _very_ bad idea to begin with.

"You need to go to the hospital wing," Blaise quietly said.

"N-no," Draco gasped. "I'm fine, really. Just a little… winded…"

"This is 'fine'?" Blaise asked, showing Draco his hand. It was bloody.

Draco laughed a breathless, humorless laugh. "I didn't know it could do that," he muttered. "But this _does_ explain the pain."

"Come on," Blaise said. "I'll help you up the stairs."

"No," Draco said. "I'm fine. I need to go to my room."

"You're _not_ fine," Blaise argued. "What the hell happened to you?"

Draco slowly struggled to his feet. He could actually feel blood running down his chest now. In an oddly detached way he thought it was interesting how powerful this jewelry was.

"I fell off my broom," he lied. "Nothing you need worry about. It's just a scratch. Happened a hundred times before. You know that."

"Is that so?" Blaise said, narrowing his eyes. "Then you don't mind me doing this?" He grabbed Draco's shoulder and pressed, making Draco cry out in pain, his knees buckling again. This time Blaise caught him. "I don't understand why you refuse to go see Madam Pomfrey," he said, "but you need to. You're rather badly hurt, Draco. It's plain to see." He shook his head. "You're usually the first one to point out if you even get the tiniest scratch.

"I'm-I'm not," Draco gasped, slowly gaining his footing again. "I'm not hurt."

"Draco…" Blaise sighed.

"N-no, it's true, Blaise. I'm not hurt. She is. Granger is hurt."

Blaise quietly looked at Draco for several seconds. "I saw Granger before," he said conversationally. "She was going up and looked a little battered, dirty and pale, but not as if she was in any pain."

"No, isn't that funny?" Draco gasped. "Please help me to my room. N-not sure I can really walk by myself anymore."

Blaise sighed again and went to Draco's good side, dragging his arm around his own neck. "What the hell do you think you're up to?" he asked as they slowly began walking.

"Couldn't control it," Draco mumbled. "I only meant to take some of it so she wouldn't pass out again or, you know, blame me for almost killing her."

"You really care about her that much?" Blaise quietly asked.

"What? No!" Draco shook his head emphatically and then had to stop as he got dizzy and felt like vomiting. "I was in breach of the contract, Blaise. If she… if she realized how badly she was hurt, she could make me take it off her. I couldn't do that." It wasn't actually true, but he didn't think that Blaise would understand the truth.

Blaise swore violently. "Still all about the bet is it?" he spat. "You need to get over this… this need to fuck up everything for yourself in your pursuit of putting Granger down."

"I suppose so," Draco mumbled, unwilling to share with Blaise the real reason why he didn't want to let go of the bond. It would just give him the wrong idea. Nobody would understand that it was nothing like that at all. His need to feel her wasn't because he wanted anything to do with _her_. It was… it was just as if he was seeing colors after living his whole life seeing monochromes.

Blaise sighed. "What did Granger say when you did this? Did she at least say thank you?"

"No," Draco moaned. His shoulder and chest felt on fire. "She doesn't know."

"How could she not know? Look at her and look at _you_!"

"She was passed out. I did it before she woke." He stumbled a bit. The blackness at the edge of his vision had expanded, and he was now seeing black spots as well. "And Blaise…" he quietly added. "She's not going to find out. Then it would be for nothing."

"Is this really worth almost killing yourself over?"

Draco was almost unable to move his feet. "I'm not almost killing myself," he murmured.

"I hate to break it to you, mate, but you look anemic on the best of days. Right now you look like Death personified."

Draco gave a low laugh. "I feel it too, but I'll be fine in the morning."

"If you're taking her pain, can't you just give it back? Stop this nonsense?"

Draco very slowly shook his head. "I… don't know… how…"

Blaise stared at him. "So you'll just be keeping it, then?"

Draco slowly shook his head again. "I can't keep it open after I lose consciousness, can I?" he murmured. "When you get me to my room I will pass out and she'll get it back. She's been given a sleeping draught already, so she probably won't even notice much."

"Madness," Blaise growled. "If you bloody fancied her, I would get it, but for a _bet_? For the chance to get to control her for… what? Another week? Madness. You're an idiot and you owe me one."

"Nine days," Draco weakly responded. "And I do. Thank you, Blaise."

Blaise didn't respond. They had reached the wall to the Slytherin common room and Blaise had to almost carry Draco through.

"Almost there, Drake," Blaise muttered, sounding slightly worried. "Hang on."

Draco conjured up the energy to nod.

"This is interesting," a cool voice said. Draco managed to lift his head enough to see Theo sitting in one of the armchairs, reading a book. "What happened?"

"Don't tell him," Draco almost inaudibly whispered, barely moving his lips. "He-he'll misunderstand. He'll think I want her for myself." He drew his cloak closer around himself to hide the bleeding.

Blaise rolled his eyes, dragging Draco through the common room. "The klutz fell off his broom at Quidditch practice. Banged his head and a few other bits that are not likely to take any permanent damage. Madam Pomfrey says he just needs some rest in his own bed."

He was nothing if not a very adept liar.

"She wouldn't want to keep him for observation?" Theo inquired.

Blaise snorted. "If she kept him every time he took a dive from his broom, she might as well set up a permanent room for him up there."

"Hey…" Draco feebly objected.

"He'll be as right as rain in the morning," Blaise said, ignoring Draco's objections. "You'll see."

"I suppose I will," Theo said, sounding doubtful.

"Thanks," Draco whispered when they were out of earshot.

"Yeah, well, don't make a liar out of me."

Draco faintly smiled. "You _are_ a liar."

"Don't make a _worse_ liar out of me. And that's one more you owe me."

Finally, they reached his room, and Draco used his last strength to stumble onto the bed, heedless of the dirt and the blood on his clothes. Blaise managed to snatch the cloak off him before he landed on it.

"You're pitiful, you know that?" he conversationally said, removing Draco's boots.

Draco couldn't even move anymore. He was so tired. And his left arm was strangely numb. "Blaise…" he weakly muttered.

"Yeah, mate."

"Could you… I need to report Vaisey to Slughorn tonight. I said I would."

"He did this to her?"

Draco nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Fucking arsehole. Yeah, I'll tell Slughorn. How did he do it?"

"Bludger. Straight… her… through stands…"

Blaise frowned, trying to make sense of the barely audible words. "And you're sure it was on purpose?"

Draco slowly nodded. "He's too good to…"

Blaise waited a few seconds for Draco to finish the sentence before he realized that his friend was out cold. With a sigh he left the room.

* * *

Draco slowly woke. He really wanted to just go back to sleep, but he had better get up now before anyone – specifically Theo – got suspicious. He was so tired. His head hurt. His shoulder hurt worse.

He sighed. He couldn't go to the hospital wing, ergo he would have to get up and make a suitable impression of being alive and well. He knew Theo would be looking for any discrepancies. He tried to sit up and then fell back with a hiss as his chest turned out to still be sore as well. He gingerly felt his ribs to see if they were ok, but it seemed like it was just the soreness.

Taking another person's pain really wasn't as fun as it might sound.

He slowly sat up and carefully began removing his Quidditch outfit. The real problem was the shirt. The blood had scabbed and the shirt stuck to it, both on the back and front and it bloody hurt when he tried to pry it free. Finally, he managed to get it off and went to look at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible. He was more pale than usual and had dark circles under his eyes. His torso was much worse, though. There were dried blood smudges everywhere, and the wound, albeit closed, was still present, and it looked angry.

He sighed and covered up before going to the bathroom to clean up.

* * *

**Next...**

**"Oi, Granger!" someone called out as she was passing the Slytherin table. Puzzled, she stopped and turned. Zabini? What…? "How's your shoulder?" he asked.**

**She frowned slightly. Why would Zabini care? Why was Malfoy frowning even harder at him? "Uh…" she slowly said, her eyes flickering between the two Slytherins. "It's fine, thanks." Why was Malfoy eating nothing but Brussels sprouts?**

**Zabini beamed at her. "Good, good. Carry on."**

**She slowly turned away, just to hear a loud clank and swirl back around. They were inconspicuously eating their lunch. She narrowed her eyes. Was Zabini just wincing?**


	39. Chapter 39

**Note1: I know that those of you who are offering me opinions on past matters are just trying to help, but can we just... let it go now? I'd like to focus on the story instead.**

**Note2: I'm tired. Just felt like sharing that.**

* * *

Draco was feeling a little bit woozy, but generally better, as he made his way to lunch. The wound had begun bleeding a little when he had had to yank the shirt from it, obviously, and cleaning it when he showered had been pure agony, but he had finally managed to make the bleeding stop, and now he was famished.

He made his way over to Blaise, who was already merrily eating his lunch, and plopped down next to him.

"Ah, there you are," Blaise jovially said. "I was going to check whether you were still alive after lunch."

"You were going to check if I was alive… _after lunch_… Thanks, mate," Draco muttered sarcastically.

"Hey, food is important," Blaise said with a shrug and a small smirk. "I didn't want your dead body to ruin my appetite."

Draco truly believed that these were Blaise's priorities. He had never known the other boy to miss a single meal in his life. "Just pass me something…" he said with a sigh.

Blaise reached out and got Draco a plate of Brussels sprouts. Nothing else.

"Eh…" Draco said, pushing the plate away, "something else, please."

"No," Blaise said, "eat it. You still look like shite; you could use the iron."

Draco frowned in annoyance. "I'm fine, Blaise. Stop mothering me and get me some real food."

For a second, Blaise didn't respond, and Draco glanced at him to see that his attention was caught elsewhere. Draco followed his look to see that it was Tracey, making her way down to the other end of the table. She didn't even glance at Blaise, but was merrily chatting with Daphne about something. Draco looked back at his friend to see that his eyes were now lowered, and he was staring at his plate as if someone had just filled _his_ plate with Brussels sprouts.

Draco felt a pang that he had a hard time identifying. Pity? But Blaise had known what he had gotten himself into at the time, so he had really been asking for it… hadn't he?

"Why don't you just reach for it yourself if you're fine?" Blaise suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow as if several seconds hadn't passed.

Draco blinked. Blaise was obviously going to act as if nothing had happened, as if the girl he wanted didn't now spurn him at every chance she got, as if his greatest interest at this point was to get Draco to eat Brussels sprouts.

Draco found that he didn't mind that Blaise was pretending. He wouldn't know what to say if he started talking about Tracey.

Of course, the thing was, Draco couldn't reach for the food, because he wasn't fine, and he was afraid that his wound might burst open if he stretched too far. He sighed. "Would you just give me a break, Blaise?" he weakly asked.

"No," Blaise clearly stated. "Eat them, or I'm telling Theo… and Granger. Which would be worse?"

Draco swallowed. He didn't really know who would be worse. Probably Theo. Granger just wouldn't understand, and he had no idea how she would react to the news. She was so damn unpredictable sometimes. She probably wouldn't slay him, though.

He just felt responsible for the whole thing. He knew he should have left her alone. He'd just been so annoyed with her, and he'd known that she found watching his Quidditch training extremely boring and that the cold would make her uncomfortable, so he'd made her go… to bother her.

It was so stupid. He deserved the bloody wound in his shoulder.

Theo, however, would completely misunderstand the whole thing. He would think that Draco also _liked_ Granger – which he didn't, of course. He just never intended for her to be _seriously_ hurt. It was all just some stupid game, a way of establishing who was in charge. He had never wanted physical harm to come to her. He wasn't really the violent sort. It was true that he had broken Potter's nose last year, but he'd had it coming for a long time for sticking it where it didn't belong in the first place.

He sighed again.

Theo would think he was trying to be competition. As if that would ever happen. As if he would be any real competition_ if_ it happened. As if….

"You're not eating it," Blaise interrupted his thoughts.

Draco scowled and began forking over the foul-tasting vegetables.

Blaise was smirking in a very self-satisfied way, making Draco think of all the ways to slowly and painfully kill one's annoying friends.

* * *

Hermione made her way to the Great Hall. She would be just in time for lunch. Her injuries hadn't really been that bad; she had known that Malfoy had overreacted. Madam Pomfrey had also overreacted a bit at first, hurriedly giving her a blood replenishing potion and cleaning and closing the wound, but it hadn't really bled much at all. It had begun closing up almost before she had even made it to the hospital wing, and even though the shock had worn off sometime during the night, and she had begun feeling her cuts and bruises and the soreness of where her rib had bent, it hadn't really been that bad. She didn't even have a scar.

Draco Malfoy was just a wuss. No news there. The strange thing was that he had been a wuss on _her_ behalf.

Oh, well. It _had_ looked more serious than it had been, and he had probably been scared of how it would end up reflecting on him. He _had_ forced her to be there after all.

"Oi, Granger!" someone called out as she was passing the Slytherin table. Puzzled, she stopped and turned. Zabini? What…? "How's your shoulder?" he asked.

She frowned slightly. Why would Zabini care? Why was Malfoy frowning even harder at him? "Uh…" she slowly said, her eyes flickering between the two Slytherins. "It's fine, thanks." Why was Malfoy eating nothing but Brussels sprouts?

Zabini beamed at her. "Good, good. Carry on."

She slowly turned away just to hear a loud clank and swirl back around. They were inconspicuously eating their lunch. She narrowed her eyes. Was Zabini just wincing?

Malfoy looked up at her innocently. "Did you want something, Granger?" He looked tired.

She frowned again and shook her head, before going to her own table.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Harry asked as she sat down.

She shrugged. "Fine, really. It wasn't that bad."

"Must have been bad enough," Ron interjected without really looking at her. "I hear Vaisey lost his spot on the team."

"Who?" she asked, feeling a bit confused.

"You were hit by a Bludger, weren't you?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Vaisey," he calmly explained. "Is… _was_… one of the Beaters on the Slytherin team. One of their most talented players _and_ the team captain. They'll have to have late season tryouts for a new Beater _and_ make someone else captain. It will mess up their game real good."

"You reckon Malfoy will be next in line for captain?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Might be why he turned him in. But he should know that it would reduce their chances of winning the House Cup to almost nil."

"It was Malfoy, who turned him in?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged and Ron returned to his food. "We don't know," Harry said, "but who else would it be?"

"It was Malfoy," Ron said without looking up from his food. "Trust me."

"You think he really wants to be captain that badly?" Harry asked, sounding intrigued.

Ron stopped eating, pushed his plate away, and for the first time looked directly at Hermione. "No," was all he said, and then he got up and left.

* * *

They were meeting at the library again. Draco sighed. He didn't want to. He could, of course, just choose not to show up and then make up some lame reason why he couldn't be arsed to go, but he was afraid Granger would notice something was wrong. From the way Theo had looked at him after lunch… he couldn't risk it.

He couldn't wait until the bet was over, but at the same time he dreaded it. He dreaded the bleakness.

He dreaded it to the point that he was considering things he shouldn't. Like getting back together with Pansy so she'd wear it. It was pathetic. It made his stomach churn to think of exploiting _Pansy_ in that way… and worse, he didn't really want to. He wanted Hermione to keep it on.

She would never keep it on. Not even if he offered her all his father's riches. Heck, he could offer her the entire world, and she wouldn't keep it on. He knew she hated wearing it. She detested it. The way the bracelet seemed to annoy her was even in her body language. She would move her arm, and as the bracelet moved against her wrist, she would frown and her movements would turn impatient and jerky. She would rejoice when it was off.

He would have to deal with it.

He walked up to the table, where Hermione was predictably already seated with several big volumes, and carefully took off his bag. His shoulder was thudding dully.

"You're late," she said reproachfully.

He smirked at her. "It's my prerogative. When _you_ wear the ring, _you_ get to call the shots."

"Then, by all means, hand over the ring," she coolly said.

He snorted. "How's your wound?"

"Healed. How's your head?"

He blinked at her. _What?_

"Theo told me you bumped it yesterday."

Oh. "It's fine," he muttered. She had been talking to Theo? When?

She smirked. "Yeah, I didn't figure you'd suffer any real damage."

He scowled. "Watch it, Granger." He sat down heavily. "What are we doing today?"

She frowned disapprovingly at him. "You don't even know? Do you even _care_ about doing your homework?"

"No," he sighed. "Quite frankly, I don't. But I'd better get it done, haven't I?" He bent down and began pulling out books from his bag.

She crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes, and pursed her lips, as she clearly tried to figure him out. Great. Only Hermione Granger would find lack of enthusiasm in homework odd.

"Let's just look at my Potions essay. I swear, Slughorn is out for my blood," he said, finding his quills.

"No, he's not," Hermione contradicted him. "He just wants you to do well."

Draco snorted. "Yeah… whatever you say, Granger."

"Give me that," she said, snatching the parchment with the assignment from him. "Oh…"

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.

"Well…" she said, glancing at him. "This _is_ slightly… difficult."

He was hard pressed not to laugh at her prim way of not quite conceding that she had been wrong.

She frowned at him again. "Stop laughing at me and start looking things up."

"I'm not laughing at you," he objected, fighting in vain not to grin.

"Oh, you are," she said. "Just because this isn't easy, doesn't mean that I'm wrong."

"Of course not," he politely responded, and at the exasperated glance she shot him, he actually laughed out loud.

"Isn't this interesting?" a voice said, instantly stopping Draco's laughter.

Theo. What was he doing here?

Draco glanced at the other boy, who was looking as inscrutable as ever. "What's up, mate?" he asked, forcing his tone to be light and hating himself for being forced.

"I was stopped by Professor McGonagall, who wanted me to give you this," Theo said, directed at Hermione, passing her a scroll. "I believe it has to do with the injury you sustained yesterday." He looked back at Draco. "They're looking thoroughly into the matter."

Hermione frowned again. She seemed to do that a lot today. But as to her emotions, there weren't any great change. "Nothing really happened," she said. "I was hit by a stray Bludger; it can't be the first time that happens."

Theo looked back at Hermione. "The teaching staff may not know exactly what's going on, but they aren't stupid. They've realized that something is different and that you've now been hurt _twice_ in a very short time span with Slytherins involved both times. They've also noticed that you have been behaving out of character, that you've been spending much more time around Slytherins than anyone would expect a Muggleborn Gryffindor to, et cetera."

Draco felt his heart begin beating uncomfortably hard and fast. He had eight days left. They couldn't be putting a stop to it now. He wanted the time he had been promised. He _needed_ it. He swallowed convulsively, telling himself he was overreacting.

"I haven't been breaking any rules!" Hermione objected. "They can't just give me the third degree because I act differently than what they expect."

"Give you the what?" Draco asked.

Hermione blinked. "I mean, question me. They can't just pry into my personal business like this!"

"You're the Head Girl," Theo reminded her. "And you have been harassed. Of course they can look into the specifics."

"But I wasn't harassed," Hermione insisted. "Malfoy, you were there. Tell him it was an accident!"

Theo turned to look at Draco and raised an eyebrow. Draco opened his mouth and then closed it again. What the hell did they expect from him? Granger had to be the only one at this entire school who had doubts that Vaisey had done it on purpose.

"Malfoy?" she prodded.

He sighed. "Don't be daft, Granger," he said in his most condescending voice. "Of course it wasn't an accident. Vaisey aimed for you and he got you."

"So it _was_ you, who reported him then?" she asked, her eyes wide.

_Oh, for fuck's sake!_

"No," he said, technically not lying. Blaise had done the reporting. "But we all knew he did it on purpose. He wasn't happy about you being there. He thought you'd tell the Gryffindors all our secrets. Never mind that everyone at Hogwarts knows that you can barely tell the Snitch from a Quaffle."

Hermione's cheeks went pink. She never liked being reminded that there were some things she didn't master perfectly. "Then it's really all your fault, isn't it?" she asked in a cold voice.

Draco didn't respond. It _had_ been his fault. He knew it. Yet, having her say it like that…. He clenched his teeth, unable to break the eye contact. Yes, it had been his fault, but he didn't like her blaming him. He'd done everything he could to make it right. He'd taken her pain. He'd taken her wound. He'd had Vaisey reported, knowing it would most likely cost Slytherin the House Cup, and knowing that his own precarious standing with his house would get infinitely worse. And all she had for him was a cold gaze that told him he was less than the dirt on her shoe.

He tried telling himself that she didn't _know_ any of this, but it didn't help. It still hurt. He knew it was stupid, but somehow he had expected her to sense what he had done… for her.

"Right," he finally said. "Got somewhere to be." He stood and began throwing things into his bag, not caring whether he was acting strange or not. He just wanted to get the hell out of there. That was what they wanted anyway – to be alone without him.

He threw his bag onto his shoulder, ignoring the sharp pain when the strap hit the wound and the weight pressed down on it. Wrong shoulder. Too late to remedy right now. He turned to leave and had almost gotten to the door, when he heard Theo calling out to him. He stopped. What now? Couldn't they just… leave him alone?

"What is it?" he irritably asked.

"I'm thinking," Theo calmly said, "that you should go to the hospital wing. You're bleeding."

Draco looked down at his shoulder and saw the red stain spreading.

_Oh, FUCK!_

* * *

**Preview:**

**"What did you tell her?" Draco asked after they had left the hospital wing. "It worked brilliantly. I don't think she'll report any of it."**

**Blaise shot him a quick glance. "That's what matters, isn't it?"**

**Something about the cautious tone of the other boy's voice alarmed Draco. "What _did_ you say?"**

**"You'll just get mad."**

**"I won't get mad."**

**"Yeah, you will."**

**"_What did you say_?"**


	40. Chapter 40

**Note 1: This fic has with this chapter surpassed 100,000 words. In comparison, all of Silencio was about 85,000 words. Oh yes, this is a mammoth. And no, that's no reason to speed it up. ;)  
**

**Note 2: It has been my habit to answer every single review I got, but I can't do that anymore. I simply do not have the time or the energy. It takes me HOURS to reply to all reviews after a chapter and with the increased stress of school and sickness and fatigue of pregnancy, I'm calling an end to it. I may resume it later when I have more energy and less school. I'm only letting you know here, so you won't think I'm ignoring you individually. I'm _not_. I'll still be reading what you have to say and perhaps responding to a few.**

* * *

Draco quickly checked that Hermione wasn't within viewing distance. There was a bookcase between them – good! She might still not have seen. And she couldn't have heard. He carefully moved the bag to his other shoulder.

"It's nothing," he said to Theo. "Just a scratch I got yesterday when I fell off my broom. Must have ripped it open with my carelessness."

Anger flashed in Theo's eyes. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Draco. I _know_ what this is. You never fell off your broom. Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?"

Draco lowered his eyes. "It's not what you think," he muttered.

"I _think_ that friends are supposed to be honest with each other, and I _think_ you should go to the hospital wing."

"I can't," Draco said miserably. "They'll _know_ and I can't allow that. I can take care of it myself."

"Don't be daft," Theo scoffed. "It'll get infected and if it ever heals, it will certainly scar. Go to the hospital wing, or I'll report my findings to Dumbledore himself."

Draco looked up again. "I _can't_," he stubbornly said. "You want honesty? I should have known she was a sitting duck out there, but I hadn't thought of it. It's nothing more than that, I swear, and the wound will be fine. Just… leave me alone."

Theo's face was stony. "I don't know if you manage to convince yourself of that, but the fact of the matter stands – you need to go to the hospital wing and if you don't, I'll certainly make sure that your bet is brought out into the open."

Draco had lost. He knew it and Theo knew it. He lifted his good arm and ran his hand through his hair, thinking frantically. "Just don't tell Granger," he finally said. "She doesn't need to know."

_She wouldn't bloody care, anyway._

Theo gazed at him thoughtfully. "You know, normally when _you_ make any sort of sacrifice, big or small, you want the whole world to know it. And now you're trying to hide it from everyone?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "Give me a break, Theo. I'm bleeding here!"

"Exactly. Why don't you let her know that she owes you one? I'm sure she'd be grateful."

"Don't be daft," Draco growled. "She'd only realize just _how_ hurt she got and you heard her. She already blames me."

"Or maybe she'd forgive you."

Draco felt a jolt go through him. _Forgiveness_. He looked away. "Of course she wouldn't. She would never forgive _me_. Excuse me, I have a wound to take care of." He hurriedly walked away, cursing Theo for saying all the wrong things.

* * *

Hermione was frowning at her table. Malfoy had been acting so strange today. First, he'd been teasing her, and then, suddenly, he'd stormed off. But not before looking at her as if… Her frown deepened. As if she'd hurt him. As if he was somehow deeply disappointed with her. As if she was supposed to know something. She couldn't figure out what it was that she was supposed to know and ended up deciding she was imagining things.

Besides, it _had_ been his fault. He'd forced her out against her will, just to make her sulking _fun_ for him. He must have known she would be targeted. She briefly considered if it was a way for him to circumvent the violence clause, but she had to discard it… sort of. He had never seemed like he wanted her to be physically hurt before. Except the time he'd forced her to kneel – that had been sort of painful. And when he made her stand for hours on end… that could be painful, too. Could he really be this underhanded? Could he really want to hurt her this badly?

Theo came back and sat down on the chair that Draco had vacated. She looked at him questioningly. "What was that all about?"

Theo hesitated for a brief second. "It was nothing. He'd asked to borrow some notes from me, and I couldn't find them."

She raised an eyebrow. "_You_ couldn't find your notes?"

He shrugged. "They were from last year. I might have left them at home."

There was an awkward silence, where Hermione absent-mindedly doodled with her finger on the table, and Theo pensively looked at her.

"What do you make of his behavior?" Theo suddenly asked.

This time Hermione shrugged. "He's a strange one, very emotional at times. I don't make much of it, really."

Theo looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head and sighed. "It would be better for all if this month was soon over."

"Tell me about it," Hermione muttered. "I can soon take up permanent residence at the hospital wing."

Again Theo looked a bit indecisive. "You do… realize… that he didn't mean for you to get harmed?"

"Didn't he?" she bitterly asked. "Maybe he should have thought of that before he put me out there for his friends to do target practice on."

"Be fair, Hermione," Theo quietly said. "Draco is very confused at the moment. He might make some bad decisions, but he tries."

"He tries to do _what_ exactly? And what does he have to be confused about?" She shook her head. "No, I don't buy it."

"He tries to…" Again Theo paused. "He tries to become a better person. But some things are so deeply rooted in him that he finds it difficult to make the change. Take you, for instance. You're a Muggleborn. He's been taught that you are inferior to him in every way, yet he's finding that this is not the case. It confuses him and makes him… react."

"Lashing out from confusion is ok if you're _two_," Hermione pointed out. "What if that piece of wood hadn't gone through my shoulder? What if it had been something vital?"

"He wouldn't have been able to live with himself," Theo simply said. "It was an accident on his part. If you want to blame anyone, blame the person who aimed the Bludger at you, not Draco."

Hermione scowled. "Why are you suddenly such a champion of Malfoy? I thought you were mad at him."

"I am," he coolly said. "More than you know, actually. But it's plain that he's trying. He's going against his own nature to try and repair what he broke. I have to acknowledge that."

That was an odd way of referring to the fact that Malfoy had tried to sabotage her relationship with Theo and had kissed her. Hermione frowned in thought. What exactly did he break? Her relationship with Theo? His _own_ relationship with Theo?

"So… what?" she asked, slightly confused. "He says that we can see each other if we want – after _he_ was the one to put restrictions on it – and then it's all good?"

"Trust me, he's doing more than that," Theo assured her, "which is why I can't wait until he takes that bracelet off you. He's doing _too_ much for my peace of mind."

"… What?" Hermione was feeling more than a little lost.

He gave her a small smile. "Never mind. It's not important. I have to go." He got up but stopped to look down at her as he was walking past her. "Chin up. Eight more days." He bent to swiftly brush his lips against hers, and then he was gone. Hermione was left with confusion and rather warm cheeks.

* * *

Before going to the hospital wing, Draco decided he needed backup and went to find Blaise. Blaise had a way with women – any women, really – and if Madam Pomfrey asked too many questions, he might be able to smooth-talk her into forgetting them. Might. It was Draco's last hope.

"You know, I'm beginning to lose count of how many favors you owe me," Blaise grumpily said, as Draco all but dragged him with him.

"A lot. I know," Draco assured him. "I'll repay you, I promise."

Blaise suddenly stopped walking and looked around nervously. "Could… Could you repay me a bit today?"

A bit confused with his friend's fidgeting, Draco blinked. "Sure, what do you need?"

"I need…" Blaise swallowed. "Please don't say anything about it, but I need you to deliver a message… to Tracey."

"It shouldn't be that difficult to send her an owl. You hardly need me to do that."

Blaise avoided his eyes. "She doesn't read my owls. You would need to corner her and make her listen. I've tried but… she hates me. I can't make her listen. Maybe you could. I don't know what else…" His voice trailed off and he was staring hard at the floor, his jaw set and a faint blush to his cheeks. He clearly found asking humiliating.

"No worries, mate," Draco heard himself say. "I'll talk to her later."

"Thanks," Blaise quietly said. "It'll reset the score."

Draco shrugged. "Who's keeping score?" He put an arm behind Blaise's back and propelled him forwards. "Just make sure that Madam Pomfrey doesn't suspect anything."

"You know," Blaise observed, "you're awfully set on keeping Granger in that bracelet."

"Don't go there," Draco advised.

"At all costs."

"You really don't want to go there."

"Even though you've hardly been bothering her since you kissed her."

"I bother her every day!"

"No… you hang out with her every day."

Draco briefly closed his eyes. _He had to go there._ "It's not like that."

"For your sake, I hope it's not," Blaise softly said.

They had reached their destination and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He could live very comfortably without ever having this conversation.

* * *

Having Blaise on his side turned out to be every bit as beneficial as Draco had hoped.

Before going in, Blaise made sure that he wasn't wearing any of the things identifying him as Slytherin. When Draco gave him a puzzled look, Blaise just shrugged. "Prejudice, mate. Don't underestimate it."

Draco hardly saw the point, since Pomfrey would recognize _him_ as being Slytherin, but whatever Blaise was doing, it seemed to be working well enough. When the elderly woman saw the wound, she hesitated and gave Draco a piercing glance, making him extremely nervous, but Blaise just mumbled something to her, and her face softened.

After this she just fussed over Draco like some mother hen, cleaning and closing his wound, and telling him to drink his potions and rest his arm for a day or so, before sending them on their way.

"What did you tell her?" Draco asked after they had left the hospital wing. "It worked brilliantly. I don't think she'll report any of it."

Blaise shot him a quick glance. "That's what matters, isn't it?"

Something about the cautious tone of the other boy's voice alarmed Draco. "What _did_ you say?"

"You'll just get mad."

"I won't get mad."

"Yeah, you will."

"_What did you say_?"

Blaise sighed. "I said she was your girlfriend."

"What?" Draco was confused. "Who?"

"Granger. I said you had performed a spell to take her wound because she was your girlfriend, and that you didn't want anyone to know because of your obvious differences."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. "You said she was my… was that really necessary?"

"I told you you'd get mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Right, that's why you're _not_ looking as if you want to hit me."

Draco looked down at his clenched fists and forced them to unclench. "I just can't afford for rumors like that to get out. Theo would never forgive me."

"Where have you been this past week, Draco? That's what most people already think."

"That's ridiculous!"

"You were asking for it. You spread those rumors that she was chasing you – which nobody believed, by the way – and then you spend so much time with her, protect her when others bother her, and kiss her in public."

Draco's eyes widened. "That's not what's been happening! I mean, some of it, yes, but…"

Blaise shrugged. "Hey, if you say it's nothing, I'll believe you. But it got you off the hook, didn't it?"

It had gotten him off the hook, yes. But how was he supposed to get out of this mess? Draco glanced at the ring. It was such a burden and a curse, yet… he couldn't find the will to want to free himself from it.

He was so screwed.

* * *

"Hey, Davis, can I talk to you for a minute?"

The girl wrinkled her nose. "No, Malfoy, you cannot."

She tried walking around him, but he'd pretty much been expecting this move, so he just grabbed her around the waist and propelled her into the nearby classroom, ignoring her indignant shriek. A small group of fifth year girls standing nearby looked up at the commotion, but he just smirked and winked at them before following Tracey into the classroom. They would of course get the wrong idea, but at least they weren't likely to come check what was going on. Well, not unless she decided to scream.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she growled at him.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. Tracey Davis had always been this timid little mouse, tiptoeing around the fringes of Slytherin society. As unremarkable in her behavior as she was in her looks, he'd barely ever looked at her twice or spoken to her. That Blaise would have chosen to care for her like this was strange to say the least. Even stranger was the way she had taken to snubbing him. After all, Blaise was a prime catch. He was rich, good-looking, and he had a mix of ruthlessness and charm that girls seemed to like.

He took a step towards her, and she immediately took a step back. "One step closer and I'll scream. I don't know what Zabini told you, but he was lying. Let me go."

Draco blinked and frowned. What the hell did she think he was going to do? And what the _hell_ did she think Blaise would have said of her? Did she know his friend so little? "I think you misunderstand," he coldly said. "Blaise asked me to talk to you."

"What?" she asked, edging around a table. "He's out of options, so he resorts to bullying?"

Draco clenched his teeth. As far as he was concerned, Blaise was better off without this bitch. "Well, you refuse to listen to him, don't you? I can't say I understand why he'd bother, but he thought you might want to listen to someone else."

"I don't understand why _you_ bother. Aren't you happy that the purity of Zabini's blood was saved from the taint of me?"

"I'm ecstatic," he drily said, "but this isn't about me. I'm doing a friend a favor."

"Then speak," she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

He took a deep breath, fighting down his own anger and annoyance. He owed it to Blaise to try and do this right. "You have to know that he didn't mean what he said that night…"

"The hell he didn't!" she immediately said. "For months, I was good enough to sneak around with, but he was never going to make it into more than that. His ego just can't take that I dumped him first."

Draco slowly shook his head. "It's just not true, Davis. He's… He's not himself."

"Yeah?" Tracey asked, her cheeks flushed slightly with anger, and her eyes shinier than they had been before. "Well, good! I hope this new Blaise is better than the old one."

She made a dash for the door, but he caught her arm as she moved past him. "Just talk to him," he said. "Give him a chance to explain himself. It wasn't easy for him to ask me to talk to you. And letting me know how he feels about you isn't exactly sneaking around."

She snorted and pulled her arm free. "You knew all along. I saw the way you looked at me and the way you were giving him a hard time." Her eyes glittered angrily. "But don't worry. I'll talk to him. I think it's time he knows exactly how I feel about him."

After she was gone, Draco stood looking at the door, feeling like he'd just failed the last of his friends.

* * *

**Up next...**

**"What was that?" he asked, sounding alarmed.**

**"What was what?" she asked, feigning ignorance.**

**His eyes narrowed. "Why did it hurt?"**

**She felt herself blush. "I don't know, don't you ever get random pains? It's nothing."**


	41. Chapter 41

**Note 1: Thanks for being so nice and understanding about me not being responsive these days.**

**Note 2: I'm in focus on LiveJournal's dhr101 community for a few more days. Feel free to pop over and ask me long and difficult questions. I will respond to the very best of my ability.  
**

**Note 3: Just something that some people seem to get wrong: I end a chapter on a cliffie when I do on _purpose_. So changing length etc of the chapters wouldn't change that bit. I can't believe that wasn't obvious XD**

**Note 4: I'm feeling so, so sick. Poor me.**

* * *

Draco supposed that the good thing about Sunday was that he no longer had a hole in his shoulder. Having a hole in your shoulder was vastly overrated. Personally, he'd do just fine without one.

Blaise had withdrawn into himself again. It was disconcerting to see the otherwise fairly outgoing Slytherin being so… closed off. He was only ever closed off to those outside of his social sphere, and then it was usually more of a haughty snub, not this absent-minded way of forgetting people around him. He had really taken the news of how Draco's meeting with Tracey had gone hard. He didn't blame Draco, though – at least he claimed that he didn't. He was just… Draco couldn't quite find the word for it. Sad, he supposed.

One thing was clear, though. He wasn't just going to get past this as easy as Draco had initially thought. He would need time. And space. Draco wasn't really known for his tact, but even he knew that he had to give Blaise some space, so he found himself sitting alone in the common room, staring at the ceiling, and considering whether it was worth it to go to the library today or not.

He didn't feel like going. He didn't feel like doing much of anything, really. He mostly felt like eating chocolate, but he didn't have any, and it was a strange craving anyway. He hadn't craved sweets in years. So, with no chocolate to eat, he felt perfectly content just staring at the ceiling for hours. He absent-mindedly noticed that people were looking a bit strangely at him. He didn't really care. He was feeling rather lethargic. Not even the thought of what Slughorn might do to him if he didn't turn in his essay tomorrow could really rouse him.

Hermione would throw a fit if he didn't show up. The thought made him smirk slightly. It would serve her right for being… her. He seemed to remember a time when she at least some of the time watched what she said or did around him. She certainly didn't anymore. He should probably try harder to keep her in line, but he really couldn't be bothered. Besides, half the fun was making her mad. Why else was he even doing this?

He sighed as he couldn't postpone it anymore. He'd better go. That essay really needed doing. He slowly got up and got his things from his room, before he made his way up to the library. She was in an odd mood today as well, he could tell. Perhaps that was what was affecting him.

"You're late!" was her growled greeting when he finally arrived at their table.

He raised an eyebrow. This was an awful lot like yesterday. He didn't reply, though, but just sat down.

"You know," she continued with her nose in the air, "it's fine if you want to do this at four thirty or five instead of at _four_, but perhaps you could let me know? It's not like I haven't got better things to do with my time."

She was _nagging_ him? He had to hide a grin as he realized she was already seething. "Like what?" he lazily asked. "Petting that monster you call a pet or snogging the other half of the school?"

She frowned at him, and he couldn't help but let the grin show. It might not be very productive, but he _did_ really enjoy annoying her. It made him feel more alive to feel that spark from her. Especially today, for some reason.

"I have my _own_ homework," she coolly informed him. "And my _own_ friends to—"

"I don't actually care," he interrupted, shaking his head and smirking slightly. "You're my slave, remember? You live to serve me."

"Except when you almost get me killed."

Back to that. This also had to mean that she didn't know about the wound. Good. He didn't particularly feel like trying to explain that part to her. He didn't like her accusing voice, though. He was still feeling rather sore about what could have happened. He probably blamed himself more than she did. "I didn't hit that Bludger," he said, trying to defend himself. "And if you had been inside, someone else could have found and harassed you if that was what they wanted."

"I doubt they would have run a piece of wood through me."

"Enough!" he snapped. "It was a bloody accident. I haven't done anything to deserve your nagging and accusations, so just shut the fuck _up_ already."

When she just stared at him, he realized that he had reacted a bit too passionately. It wasn't supposed to matter what she said or thought. It _didn't_ matter. He was just feeling a bit short-tempered. And couldn't she see that she didn't need to remind him? "You're annoying me," he muttered. "You're supposed to help me with my essay, not… bother me about something that can't be done anything about anyway."

"Would you have done anything about it if you could?" she quietly asked.

What the hell kind of question was that? He _had_ done something! Except she didn't know that, did she? "And what would I have done, Granger?" he asked with a sigh. "I dug you out and sent you on your way to the hospital wing; this was just about all I _could_ do. It wasn't as if I would have thought Vaisey would risk losing his spot on the team just for some petty violence."

He almost wanted to show her his bloody scar, the proof that he knew very well what had happened and who was to blame for it.

Hermione slowly shook her head. She honestly didn't understand this Slytherin. He always acted so strange. His mood swings were worse than any she had ever seen, and he quite often contradicted himself.

"Fine," she said. "I suppose this isn't getting us anywhere. You still need to do the essay for Slughorn?" She might as well give up on making him see why he _could_ be held accountable for what happened. Someone like Malfoy would never accept responsibility for anything as long as there was someone else to blame.

He looked relieved at the change of topic. "Yes. It's due tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow? Just how long did you put this off?" she scolded.

His lip quirked. "He assigned it Friday."

She stared at him again.

He laughed without much humor. "Do you believe that he hates my guts yet?"

Secretly, she did. But, of course, she'd never tell him that. Where would they be if she suddenly started agreeing with him?

* * *

An hour later, Hermione stretched – her back was killing her – and rolled her neck. Draco winced, and she smiled, feeling smug that he had to feel that. Served him right for… well, everything. Suddenly, a sharp pain went through her abdomen, making his head snap up to look at her. _Oh, crud._ She curled a bit into herself, willing the wayward muscles to relax.

"What was that?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

"What was what?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

His eyes narrowed. "Why did it hurt?"

She felt herself blush. "I don't know, don't you ever get random pains? It's nothing."

There was another cramp. Typical. She wasn't even really that prone to getting them.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing," he suggested.

"No, I'm fine," she bit out. "Let's get back to work."

"It could be some sort of flu."

"It's _not_, would you please just shut up about it?" she fairly growled. Being annoyed didn't help her muscles ease up at all. But then again, it didn't help the feeling of annoyance that her insides were being ripped apart.

He frowned at her. "Why are you being so bitchy? Does my concern offend you that much?"

No, his concern didn't offend her – but being called bitchy did! "I already told you it's nothing – several times – now drop it!"

"Come to think of it, you had something like this this morning as well, didn't you? I was a bit distracted, and it wasn't as strong…"

Oh, for heaven's sake. He wasn't ever going to let it go. She lowered her voice to an almost inaudible whisper. No need to shout it out to the entire library. "It's girl stuff, just forget it."

His frown deepened. "What do you mean girl stuff?" His voice wasn't lowered, and she shushed him, looking about. It wouldn't surprise her if Theo was around; the last thing she needed was for _him_ to hear it. She knew it was perfectly natural, but her monthlies were just something that she preferred to keep to herself.

"I mean _girl_ stuff. Happens every month, you know. Can we please not talk about this?" Her face must be positively flaming around now. It was just so… _personal_.

His eyes widened slightly as he caught her meaning. "I don't think it's supposed to hurt like that…" he lamely said. "Aren't you supposed to just be bi—eh… temperamental and bleed a little?"

"Just _why_ do you think we're _temperamental_?" she snarled, rapidly losing patience with his ignorance. "And for your information – it's not always a _little_ and it's not always just _blood_, either."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ew, too _much_ information."

She smiled rather evilly. "Your own fault for pushing the subject. Are we done yet?"

"Yeah," he said, nervously glancing at her. "We're done."

"Good!" She returned to the homework with a vengeance, ignoring his apprehensive looks.

* * *

After this, Draco decided that nobody could blame him if he stayed clear of Hermione for a few days. After all, it was _never_ fun to be around girls at that time, and he was finding that the discomfort she was having was vastly bigger than he'd ever thought it would be. He was rather surprised when he saw her in and between classes and she was acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She had to go through this every month? All girls did? He considered asking Pansy about it but decided that she'd just laugh at him and rightfully so. Why should he care, anyway? He should just be happy that he wasn't a girl. And, Merlin, was he happy!

"This is strange," Theo observed, when he entered the common room at half four on Monday and found Draco lounging near Blaise. "Aren't you usually off bothering Granger by now?"

"Uh, yeah…" Draco muttered, his gaze flickering to Blaise, who wasn't moving a muscle. "I decided not to do that today."

"And why not?" Theo inquired.

Draco scowled a bit. "Who says I need to every day? I just didn't feel like it."

Theo pursed his lips. "By all means, I just can't remember the last time _that_ happened."

"I can," Blaise interjected. "The day before the Quidditch match, he sent her back."

"You're really not helping, Blaise," Draco growled.

The other boy just shrugged, the ghost of a smirk on his features.

"I stand corrected," Theo deadpanned.

"What's it to you, anyway?" Draco asked.

Theo didn't reply. He didn't have to. Draco knew exactly why he was so interested in what was going on. What Draco _couldn't_ figure out was why Theo had hardly made a move on Hermione. It had been more than a week since the… incident…. Surely, he didn't _really_ blame _her_ for it.

Draco lowered his eyes, almost afraid that Theo could read his mind if he saw them. This past week and especially these past couple of days, he'd come to realize that he had been solely responsible for what had happened that night. _He_ had been the one to blame. He had wanted to kiss her for days before the match, not that he would even have admitted it to himself at the time, so he had ended up forcing it on her.

She hadn't wanted it then, and she wouldn't want it now. _He_ didn't even really want it. This was _Granger_, for crying out loud. It must be the bond doing this to him somehow. The way he could feel her slightest reaction made him crave to make her react to his touch. It wasn't even as if he was in love with her or anything. He wasn't. He didn't even like her most of the time. He just wanted to feel her lips against his, as her body pressed against his… willingly offering the caresses he craved. Just once, he wanted to feel what he had felt when they had kissed the last time – without her being drunk or coerced.

Merlin help him, how he still wanted to kiss her. He kept looking at her, imagining her lips against his and the way her eyes had looked when they were dazed with want. Not to mention how it had felt, knowing _he_ was the one who could make her feel so powerfully, make her melt in his arms. But, of course, she'd been drunk off her arse at the time, and it hadn't been about him at all. It still drove him insane that she would rather get it from others than him. He couldn't blame her, though. He'd been nothing but cruel to her, so why _would_ she want to kiss him?

She wouldn't. Same as she wouldn't want to keep the bracelet on. He had nothing to offer that would change her mind on either score. Theo, on the other hand, could kiss her if he wished, and he did _nothing_. Draco wanted to shove him, to yell at him, to make him see what was right before him… but he couldn't. He couldn't let Theo know what he wanted. Besides, if Theo went for her and got her… if Draco had to feel how she felt when _Theo_ kissed her… he would truly go mad.

He wasn't supposed to feel this way, and he kept hoping it would go away, but it wouldn't. He knew Theo would never forgive him if he knew he had these thoughts. He knew he was being a horrible friend, fantasizing about his best friend's almost-girlfriend. He just couldn't… help himself.

But how could he betray his best friend just for some physical obsession? Not that she would ever go for it. He saw the way she looked at him, felt how she felt around him. She wasn't excited like he was, her body didn't respond to his presence. She didn't _feel_ him, nor did she want to. He would only make a fool of himself if he tried to kiss her again.

"You're both being awfully quiet," Blaise interrupted Draco's gloomy thoughts. "Is this how you plan on cheering me up? With long faces?"

"I wasn't aware we were cheering you up," Theo drily said.

"Yeah, me neither," Draco mumbled.

Blaise snorted. "Some friends you are, do I really need to give you a manual?"

"A manual would be good," Theo said, nodding thoughtfully. "That way we wouldn't have to guess."

"Don't tell me there's actually something you don't know," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"There are many things I don't know," Theo quietly said, "and one of them unfortunately happens to be how to mend a broken heart with words."

"Oh, words would mend it," Blaise sighed. "If only they were the right words and they came from the right person…"

Draco lowered his eyes again. This was making him uncomfortable. He knew nothing about broken hearts, and he knew nothing about what to say to make it better. He didn't think this was an appropriate conversation for… them. Wasn't all this stuff about feelings supposed to be for girls?

"I'm going to my room," he announced. "See you tomorrow."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It's not even five yet. Aren't you coming up for supper?"

"Nah, not hungry," he muttered.

"Seems like you're coming down with something," Theo coolly said.

Draco fought back a wince at Theo's choice of words. "Yeah… seems like it…" He shuffled off.

* * *

**Next update:**

**"You. Are. Unbelievable!" she snarled.**

**He raised an eyebrow. "Why, thank you," he coolly replied, taking the opportunity to annoy her further. Really, what was he supposed to say?**

**"I mean, I knew you were an intolerable, racially bigoted, inconsiderate, spoiled pureblood prat, but I didn't know you were also a male chauvinistic _pig_!"**


	42. Chapter 42

**Trying hard to not be bitchy in this note. So give me credit for that. Let me just say that I find multiple pokes about how LONG it's been since my last update very irritating. You may poke me when it's been a month, ok? Five to eight days is no time at all and you should be ashamed of yourselves if you bother authors after that short a while. Ok, got it out of my system, please refrain from commenting on this even in support. This was just easier than replying to PMs etc.**

**Now on to the chapter :) I hope you like the insight of this one...**

* * *

When Draco woke the next morning, he was incredibly well rested but ravenous. He should really stop cutting meals, it couldn't be healthy. He just hadn't wanted to be with his friends and he hadn't wanted to see Hermione, so staying away had seemed the sensible option. It certainly wasn't the coward's way out or anything.

Feeling less than convinced about this, he began going about his day.

He would be perfectly content if he could just feel Hermione without actually seeing her.

Unfortunately, she was a strange little creature with strange little notions.

In the break between afternoon classes she mercilessly cornered him, arms across her chest, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparking. His gaze flickered as he tried to recall what he might have done to make her so angry with him that she would actually seek him out – and like this too – to give him a piece of her mind. He quickly decided that she was about to tell him anyway, so there was no use wasting energy on trying to figure out how her mind worked. Besides, he might strain something if he tried.

"You. Are. Unbelievable!" she snarled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why, thank you," he coolly replied, taking the opportunity to annoy her further. Really, what was he supposed to say?

"I mean, I knew you were an intolerable, racially bigoted, inconsiderate, spoiled pureblood prat, but I didn't know you were also a male chauvinistic _pig_!"

This just kept getting better and better. "Please, don't hold back."

"You abuse and torture me for weeks and now… _this_! How _dare_ you eschew my help because of… because of this!? Oh, and for your information – if I'm _temperamental_, you _deserve_ it!"

He was having a hard time following her. "I wasn't aware that you missed my presence that badly."

"You're _really_ going to have a hard time out in the real world if you plan on avoiding all witches for one week a month!"

Secretly, he thought it sounded like it would make life easier. However, having caught on to her meaning, he just smirked at her in his most condescending way. "That's not it."

She frowned. "What?"

"That's not the reason." Well, it wasn't _all_ of the reason.

Her frown deepened. She really should be careful or she'd get wrinkles before her time. "So you're saying that your decision to _finally_ leave me alone just _happened_ to be… now?"

He shrugged. "Well, I did also figure that all things considered you might want to lie down or something rather than tutor an _intolerable, racially bigoted, inconsiderate, spoiled pureblood prat_."

A faint blush tinged her cheeks. "Why, then?"

Hadn't he just told her why? "Why what?"

"Why did you originally decide to go easier on me all of a sudden?"

He sighed. "Believe it or not, Granger," he quietly said. "You're not really that pleasant to be around. I needed a break."

Then he turned around and walked away from her.

* * *

After the last class, Draco went in search of Blaise. He didn't really want to be around Theo for obvious reasons and Blaise was sufficiently gloomy to fit Draco's own mood. He wasn't exactly sure why he was feeling like this, but misery liked company, and so he could either find Blaise or _make_ someone miserable. Preferably Granger. She didn't even know him, so how could she pass judgment on him like that? Sure, he'd done some things in the past, but that hadn't been who he had been at _all_ this year. Ok, maybe he had around her, just a little, but… she hadn't exactly been kind to him either. It seemed that she just had this image of him and it didn't matter what he did, she would never see him as anything else.

It really _was_ a good thing that he didn't plan on kissing her again. Even better that he didn't care that it would never happen. There was no reason for Theo to always look at him with that penetrating gaze; it was obvious that there was no competition. None. Not from him, anyway. Maybe someone else had caught her fancy by now, who knew? Maybe that Hufflepuff fellow she had made blush and run off. No, she wouldn't go for someone who was intimidated by her.

Why was he even thinking about this?

Someone told him they had seen Blaise out by the lake and, feeling rather puzzled, he went out to find him. Blaise didn't usually spend a lot of time outside, especially not by himself. Of course, it could be that he _wasn't_ by himself. Maybe he'd made up with Davis and Draco would have to mope alone. Damn, that would be inconvenient.

The lake came into view and eventually so did Blaise. He was alone, apparently skipping stones. Draco felt a sense of foreboding, which he told himself was ridiculous. He did, however, decide that perhaps Blaise really did want to be alone and that he'd probably come inside if he wanted company.

Just as he was turning to leave, Blaise looked up and saw him. For a second Draco didn't know what to do, but then he decided that he'd best go down and say hello. Blaise would tell him if he wanted to be alone. So why was it he was still feeling so hesitant? He shrugged it off and went down there.

"Hey," he muttered, as he finally reached his friend. "This is new. Suddenly growing fond of nature?"

Blaise didn't reply, but just stared down at the stone in his hand for a second before flinging it out with all his might. He watched it skip and then bent to find a new stone flat enough for his purpose. Draco watched Blaise's movements, frowning slightly. Something was a bit off, his movements were too stiff, too… not Blaise.

Blaise skipped a new stone. "Did you see her?" he then hoarsely asked.

"See who?" Draco quietly asked.

"Tracey," Blaise said the name a bit too quickly, as if forcing it out so it would cause him less pain. He swallowed. "She's taken up with a-a… someone else. She's over me. I saw them together everywhere today."

Draco didn't know what to say. He hadn't noticed Tracey at all today. He hardly ever noticed her unless it had to do with Blaise. "I'm sorry, mate," he finally said.

Blaise nodded rather stiffly and flicked out another stone. "They were whispering in class. He was touching her. She… she was smiling. It's been a while since I saw her smile."

Again, Draco just stood there searching for something to say.

Apparently he didn't need to say anything, because Blaise went on, "She kissed him too. Not in public, though. They went off after classes were out and I… I followed them. I don't think they saw me. But I saw _them_, kissing." He flicked another stone and then let his arms drop. "How can that be? Just a week ago she said… she said she was in love with _me_ and now… It's only been a week!"

"I'm sorry," Draco repeated, feeling useless.

"Did she even really mean it then?" Blaise asked, looking down at his hands. "Could she have meant it if she's now smiling and kissing someone else? Am I a fool for…" He didn't finish the sentence, but the feeling behind it was clear in the way he clenched his jaw and swallowed again.

"No, of course not," Draco soothed. "I'm sure she meant it."

"How dare he kiss her," Blaise suddenly growled, picking up another stone and flicking it with greater force than any of the others. "She's _mine_! Tracey is _mine_; she belongs to _me_! She belongs _with_…" Again he just stopped, as if lost in thought.

"You can win her back," Draco said, not sure about the truth in his own words. "You can make her see."

"Maybe…" Blaise said, sounding infinitely sad. "But I realized something. She's happy now. I want nothing more than for her to be happy. If he hurts her, I'll break his legs, but right now… she's happy. She has someone who can hold her hand and kiss her in public, someone who can ignore her blood status. I couldn't and I can't… she was never really happy with me. I can't be what she wants, what she deserves."

Blaise's hands were shaking and his eyes were becoming suspiciously shiny. Draco tactfully looked away. "Why not?" he heard himself ask. "I mean… I know it would be a big shift, but if you really care about her like that, wouldn't you want to be with her?"

"I love her," Blaise whispered. "I never fully understood that before… I'd do anything to be with her. But… it's my mother, Draco. She's a really cold-hearted witch. I'm… I'm afraid for Tracey's safety. Mother has gotten away with so much already, I don't see how she'll let one little half-blood witch get in the way of her ambitions for me. So, in short: Being with me would make Tracey unhappy, put her in danger, and she wouldn't really have anything to show for it but some stolen kisses." He laughed mirthlessly.

"She didn't seem all that unhappy to me," Draco muttered.

"Maybe she wasn't," Blaise conceded. "But she wasn't _happy_ either. She rarely smiled at me like that." He sighed. "I didn't even deserve the time I did have with her. I was such an arse. She told me she loved me and I-I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't really. I didn't realize what having that meant – what not having it would feel like."

Draco was getting more and more uncomfortable, he really didn't know how to do this. He didn't _want_ to do this. The only reason he hadn't made a hasty excuse and retreated yet was that he somehow sensed that Blaise needed to talk about this. And he owed the boy. A lot.

"Be careful," Blaise very softly said.

"What?" Draco felt confused and was sure he must have missed something.

"It starts with a kiss…" Blaise continued. "And you think it doesn't mean much if you just steal another one. It's just a kiss, after all. Soon, you're addicted and you're in love, and you realize that it _does_ matter that it's a hopeless relationship, and the only way out is by smashing right through your own heart. And maybe hers, too."

"Why are you saying it like that?" Draco asked. He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

Blaise gave him a reproachful look. "I'm not stupid, Draco," he said. "I saw the kiss. I saw the pain you took for her. I may not be as observant as Theo, but I've seen the change in you around her. You want more, whether you'll admit it or not."

"D-Don't be ridiculous," Draco scoffed, taking a step backwards, feeling an incredible urge to flee.

"You-Know-Who will be out to get you in one way or another as soon as you leave the protection of Hogwarts. Your father is also out there and who knows what _his_ agenda is. You and your mother can't live in a safe house protected by the Order all your lives. Do you really want to add a Muggleborn witch to this? Make everything worse for yourself and put her in immediate danger?"

"Of course not!" Draco exclaimed. "I don't know where this is coming from; I don't _want_ her."

Blaise's head snapped up, an angry glint in his eyes. "Don't fool yourself, Draco. You _want_ her. It's just how much that remains to be seen."

Shaking his head slowly, Draco took another step backwards. No, Blaise was misunderstanding everything. Yes, he had wanted to kiss her again, but he had given up on that thought. She hated him. She wouldn't allow it. What would be the point? "She doesn't want me. I _don't_ want _her_."

"Why is it you won't tell her about what you did?" Blaise haughtily asked. "Is it because you're afraid she wouldn't want you or because you're afraid she _would_?"

Draco didn't reply, but just took a few steps more backwards before he finally gave in to his urge and ran back to the castle. He _knew_ talking about those things was a bad idea.

* * *

Once again attempting to hide in the library, Hermione hid her face in her hands as she was beating herself up for the ten thousandth time that day. Of all the _stupid_ things she could have said and done! _Why_ would she be getting in Malfoy's face about why he wasn't torturing her? It didn't make any sense! She had just been _so_ annoyed at his arrogant ways and had wanted to… well, to do what she did. And the things she had called him. She moaned into her palms. He was sure to spend every last second of the time that was left scheming how to make her miserable. This had not been a smart move. Really not a smart move. Not unless she was suicidal. Was she suicidal? Maybe she was, because she had just signed her own bloody _death sentence_. She banged her forehead onto the desk, earning her some very queer looks from other students.

Right, it couldn't be helped. She just had to suck it up and take whatever he threw at her. It was Tuesday and come Sunday she would be free again. He couldn't do anything that was _that_ bad, could he?

Ok, he could. But she would survive. She would come out stronger. She would… beg for mercy, pleading PMS. He had shown some human qualities lately, maybe he would take pity on her. Perhaps if she promised to be good. She knew he hated it when she talked back to him. Not talking back for five days should be doable… right? She had better find him and plead her case before he had his revenge fully plotted and summoned her.

She hurried down towards the dungeons, but she saw him already in the Entrance Hall. It seemed he had just come from outside. Zabini was there, too. He was holding on to Malfoy's arm as if he was forcing him to stay and listen. Draco looked like he _really_ didn't want to listen. She couldn't hear what was said, but hesitated in the middle of the stairs, not sure if she should come all the way down when they were so clearly arguing about something. Now probably wasn't the best time.

Zabini looked up and saw her. With a cold smirk at his friend, he said something and then went towards her with long strides. Draco watched the other boy in confusion, as the dark Slytherin approached Hermione.

Then, as Blaise reached Hermione, he whispered something in her ear, before he swiftly bent down and kissed her.

_What the…?_

* * *

**zOmg preview:**

**She turned back towards him. "Is this really necessary?" she asked with an imploring smile. "I have been good lately."**

**He raised an eyebrow.**

**"Well, maybe I _have_ been forgetting myself with what I said earlier, but I didn't _mean_ it…"**

**He snorted.**

**"… and I haven't kissed anyone for weeks, because you didn't want me to! Well, except Theo on Saturday, but I don't know if that—"**

**"You kissed Theo on Saturday?" Draco sharply interrupted. How the hell had he not noticed? Oh, right, he had been too busy _bleeding_ for her.**


	43. Chapter 43

**The final voting has started on Dramione Awards. If you're bored between updates, go there (link is in my profile) and go to the final voting page and begin reading. Just remember to read the rules regarding how to vote. That ought to keep you busy for a while. Good luck with finding new favorites and please remember to judge fairly. :)**

* * *

Hermione's eyes widened as Zabini's mouth deftly covered her own.

_What the heck?_

This was madness, this was insane, this was… did all Slytherins have such soft lips?

_Focus!_

It was hard to focus, this was simply too surreal. It had been a surprise when Malfoy had kissed her, sure, but… still not quite as surprising and this. And what had he meant with the words he had whispered in her ear, anyway? They were the reason that she just stood there, rooted in place, allowing this Slytherin boy this outrageous liberty. Well, ok, he was actually being rather decent about it, not touching her anywhere but on the lips, but still… _why_ was he touching her on the lips?

"_Play along,_" he'd whispered into her ear.

At this point she did seem to be playing along against her better judgment, but she didn't know why she shouldn't fight him or what was going on. Perhaps this was some odd joke; see how she would respond to yet another kiss from yet another one of their lot. This could, in fact, be Malfoy's revenge. He couldn't force her to kiss people using the ring, but if he had other people force her, then he would neatly avoid the contract. Prat.

Zabini seemed to get bored with just the pressure of lips against lips, but instead of ending the kiss, which would have been the thing that would have made sense, he flicked out his tongue at her lips. Hermione's eyes widened again. _NO_, she was _not_ going to snog another one of them. She turned her head slightly, but he just chuckled too low for anybody but her to hear and ran his lips over her cheek to boldly nip at her ear.

She squeaked and jerked back, as the little hairs at the back of her neck stood on end, but Zabini just smirked slightly and winked saucily at her. He then turned on his heel and quickly took the stairs back down. As he reached Malfoy, who was just staring, he patted his friend on the shoulder and said, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" before he went off in direction of the dungeons, whistling.

Silence. As Hermione slowly emerged from her state of dazed confusion, she realized that Malfoy hadn't said one word and was now just looking up at her, his face an inscrutable mask.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" she asked, her voice a little shaky, as she slowly descended the stairs.

He didn't respond in any way.

"Answer me!" she demanded, having forgotten that she was going to beg for lenience. She finished descending the stairs and walked up to him. "Was this another one of your dirty tricks? Sending your friends at me?"

"Yeah, well, you enjoyed it well enough, didn't you?" he finally said. "Congratulations, you've worked your way through the current Slytherins in our year. Who's next?"

Her eyebrows shot up. She couldn't believe the gall of him. She hadn't done _anything_! "Well, I was thinking Gryffindor," she coolly replied. "I have a head start there, only a few to go."

"Good," he bit out, his eyes glittering angrily, "then maybe you'll stay the fuck away from _my_ friends."

What was his problem? "Yes, well, I'm sure I'll be the first girl in a long time to get both all of Slytherin and Gryffindor," she taunted.

He smiled coldly at her. "Don't be so sure, Mugglespawn. But there are usually names for girls like you…"

Her eyes narrowed. "Get real, Malfoy!" she snarled and turned her back on him.

"Not so fast," he said, before she could walk away. "It seems like I should keep you on a shorter leash."

Safe in the knowledge that he couldn't see, she rolled her eyes. "Meaning what?" she asked.

"Meaning, for the rest of the bet you do not leave my sight unless you have express permission from me to do so," he clarified.

She swirled back round. "That's ridiculous! I need _permission_ from you to just go to the lavatory or go to _bed_?"

"And if I were you," he added, "I wouldn't challenge that point too hard. I'm sure arrangements could be made."

Her eyes widened. Why was he reacting like this? "You can't be serious!"

"I am _very_ serious," he coolly replied. "This was what you wanted, wasn't it? To be bothered more? Well, you got your wish, princess."

She moaned as she had to acknowledge defeat.

Draco couldn't believe how furious he was. There had been _no_ call for Blaise to pull a stunt like that. He knew, of course, that Blaise had only been proving his point. He had even taunted him as he had gone for her.

_"So you don't care about her at all, you say? Then you won't mind me doing this…"_

So Draco had had to watch his friend, who had been all teary-eyed over another girl mere minutes earlier, kiss Hermione. In all fairness, her response hadn't been explosive in the least. In fact, she had been mostly surprised and confused. But she hadn't pushed him away, and she hadn't _not_ liked it. All the evidence pointed towards her actually finding the experience rather pleasant.

Slut.

Did she have to like _every_ kiss she got? Did she have to be so compliant every time? Did she have to look so flushed and dazed afterwards? Did her lips have to be so swollen?

He was going to kill Blaise. As soon as he found an excuse that wouldn't make his friend suspicious of his real motives, he would kill him. Slowly and painfully. Perhaps after kissing Tracey.

He knew he was being completely unreasonable to Hermione, but he couldn't seem to summon the will to care. She may not have invited the kiss, but she had allowed it to go on for several seconds, allowing Blaise who knew what liberties. It tore at Draco in ways he had never imagined it would. It made him want to yell at her, demanding to know what the hell she thought she was doing.

But he'd just sound like a jealous boyfriend. She would get the wrong idea.

He just had to live with the fact that the kiss that he still fantasized about and fought not to repeat had just been cheapened even further. Not only had she been unbelievably drunk at the time, but she would kiss anyone like that, even when sober. Absolutely anyone. Except perhaps him. She hated him.

He swallowed hard as he realized something. He didn't hate _her_. He didn't like her very much most of the time, and right now he was really angry at her and could barely look at her, but he knew hate. This was not it.

"When does this start?" she asked when no more details were forthcoming.

"Now," he said a little hoarsely. "Can't have you roaming free, can I?"

She turned back towards him. "Is this really necessary?" she asked with an imploring smile. "I have been good lately."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe I _have_ been forgetting myself with what I said earlier, but I didn't _mean_ it…"

He snorted.

"… and I haven't kissed anyone for weeks, because you didn't want me to! Well, except Theo on Saturday, but I don't know if that—"

"You kissed Theo on Saturday?" Draco sharply interrupted. How the hell had he not noticed? Oh, right, he had been too busy _bleeding_ for her.

She blushed a little. "It wasn't really a kiss," she hedged, "and besides, you said that Theo was exempt."

Draco saw red. There was no better way to explain it. Her face slid out of focus and his blood thundered in his ears. She had kissed Theo again. Theo had kissed her. He hadn't even known. In spite of the ring, he hadn't even _known_. Why hadn't anyone told him? Someone should have told him, should have warned him.

A small voice – a _sane_ voice – asked why anybody would think of informing him, but he ignored it.

What else had she been up to that he didn't know about? Several possibilities, one more exaggerated than the other, entered his mind. It was a _good_ thing he was keeping a closer eye on her. She was _his_ for another five days. He didn't like to share.

"M-Malfoy?" she hesitantly asked.

"No more!" he growled. "Can't you even keep your lips to yourself for _one_ bloody week?"

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up at him. "Well, obviously it wasn't even big enough of a deal for you to notice, so I don't see your problem!"

She wouldn't. "Dungeons. Now!" he just said, turning away from her.

She sullenly followed him. Unfortunately, she couldn't just _keep_ quiet and it didn't take her many seconds to begin nagging him again. "What will you do in a few days when you don't have me to boss around anymore?" she asked. "Won't your life be void of all meaning?"

"I'll manage," he ground out.

"I'm sure you will," she retorted. "But who will you manage?"

"Ha ha," he mumbled.

"Or you could always grovel and get Parkinson back. I'm sure she'd _let_ you treat her like a—ungh!"

He had slammed her against one of the clammy stonewalls, and it occurred to her that she might have gone a bit too far. Again. She had just been goading him because… well, she wanted to fight. He could at least _fight_ with her when he was treating her like this.

"Now, you listen to me," he hissed. "I don't care for your endless opinions and suggestions. And I _don't_ care for you badmouthing Pansy. It stops _now_."

"Or what?" she asked, wincing a bit at her own words.

He leaned closer. Too close. "You don't want to find out," he said so softly that she had to strain to hear it.

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably in Draco's none too gentle grip. This was strange. She felt awkward. He wasn't usually quite like this, all… quiet and menacing. She knew he was waiting for her to apologize or something along those lines, but her stubbornness wouldn't allow it, so she just mutely glared at him.

Draco couldn't believe this girl! She had been horribly rude to him all day, called him every name in the book, kissed his friends, and made snide remarks about his ex, and _still_ she wasn't the _least_ apologetic – not even when he was trying to intimidate her. All he felt was defiance, apprehension, and a vague uncertainty. At least there was the apprehension, or he'd have to make some sort of example of this. And there was… tension? What kind of tension?

He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to figure her out. He could see her pulse jumping, but her lips were pressed together as she steadily glared back at him. No, it wasn't any kind of tension he could use. He felt like sighing. This was such a mess. She was horrible to him, he was horrible to her, and really… she just wanted to be rid of him and he just wanted to kiss her senseless once more.

_Why shouldn't I kiss her?_

Draco almost blinked. No, she didn't want it. She was only staying passive because she thought they were in the middle of some sort of battle of wills, which was funny, since he had actually given up on bending her to his will weeks ago. He let go of her arms, but she stayed rooted, still glaring at him.

_She didn't particularly want Blaise's kiss and she still allowed it…_

Could he settle for being _allowed_ to kiss her? His eyes dropped to her lips. She wasn't pressing them together anymore and they looked so soft and inviting. It was just a kiss. She would like it. She always liked kissing. She might not be very pleased with him after, but… he wanted it so much. Just one more taste before his time was up. She wouldn't mind that much, would she? Just one taste. He wouldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. It was harmless.

Before he could change his mind, he bent and pressed his lips to hers, desperately seeking the contact he needed.

And was swiftly rewarded with a stinging slap.

For a second, he could only stare at her in shock, barely registering the implications. Then it all did register, and he closed his eyes, vainly trying to hide his shame and humiliation. She hadn't said no, turned her head, or pushed him away – she had _slapped_ him. It didn't get any clearer than that. There was an almost unbearable pain in his chest, and he swallowed a few times, trying to compose himself. He should have realized this. After all, he had already known the level of contempt she had for him. He knew he shouldn't have tried to do this. Damn Blaise for making him think so much about it.

The worst part, apart from the rejection itself, was that he was apparently the only one she _would_ reject. Even Blaise she had just let kiss her. It was just him she would do this to, and she would do it so horribly hurtfully, too. He wasn't perfect, but he hadn't tried to force her or grope her or _anything_ that would warrant such a cold treatment. He had just wanted her lips against his once more.

It wasn't in Draco's nature to just stick around for this kind of treatment. He was a Malfoy. He had pride. He had arrogance. He did _not_ spend his time trying to coax kisses out of bitchy little witches who would just slap him when there was no need. He would have stopped if she had asked him to. He wasn't a complete arse.

He was done.

Hermione was staring at Draco in terrible confusion, her hands covering her mouth. She hadn't meant to react quite that violently, but when he'd suddenly made that unexpected move, she had panicked and… well. She winced as she saw the reddening of his cheek where the slap had landed. She wanted to apologize, but she couldn't seem to find the words in the middle of all of her confusion – and he was just… _standing_ there. Oh, this was awfully awkward. She should say something.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she almost shrieked. Ok, not exactly what she had meant to say, but it was hard to think in the middle of all of this shock and… and… he had tried to _kiss_ her!

"Obviously, I wasn't," he said, unbearably calm.

"I'll say!" she said, feeling thoroughly agitated. "I can't begin to imagine what would make you _that_ was a good idea! I mean, common sense—"

His head snapped up and his voice was very cold when he said, "A simple 'no' would have been enough, Granger. You don't have to be such a bitch about it."

"How do you _expect_ me to react?" she almost shouted at him.

His jaw clenched. "Don't worry. I got the message," he seemed to force out. "Go back to your tower. I think this is enough for one day, don't you?"

He turned and began very quickly walking away from her, almost toppling Blaise as the other boy turned the corner.

"Oh, hey!" Blaise said. "You were taking your time, so I decided to come look for you. I need to borrow your—"

"Not now, Blaise!" Draco choked, before he fled.

Blaise frowned after his friend before realizing Hermione was there. His eyes narrowed. "You again!" he spat. "When are you going to stop being such a bitch to Draco?"

Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth fell open at the sheer injustice of the accusation.

* * *

**:o**

**It's becoming increasingly difficult to find previews that don't spoil too much :P**

**She crossed her arms, looking as if she would like to thump him hard on the head. "Did you lie about the note too?"**

**"What note?"**

**She sighed impatiently. "The one that found its way to my friends after Crabbe put me in the hospital wing."**

**He gave her an odd, weary look. "I'm surprised you didn't figure _that_ one out yet."**


	44. Chapter 44

**Edit: Come now, darlings. This next bit is pure information. Nobody's been hostile. :)**

**All right, due to popular speculation, I think I'll post a brief explanation of how I see Hermione and why she is not "smart" enough to "just know" how Draco is feeling. :) This is not really a debate or a defense, just an explanation of the character as I see her. You can take it or leave it. I do encourage that everyone has their own interpretation, but this is what I have so far based the story on in regards to her.**

**First off, we're dealing with a very short in-story timespan at this point. It has only been 25 days since she lost the bet. In that time Draco has disparaged her, starved her and repeatedly publicly humiliated her. Some of you might remember calling him irredeemably evil. A few days of him holding back the abuse won't make her think that he's suddenly a good guy. If she did, then she would be a doormat, and we don't want that. At least I don't.  
**

**Second off, Draco has done very little to show his feelings to HER. In fact, he's been rather defensive and has actively been pushing her away whenever she came too close to the truth. He's unwilling to allow her the power of knowing what effect she has on him. And Hermione is smart, yes, but she is not all-knowing or reads minds. All she sees is that he's acting irrationally and being moody.**

**And finally... even should she know that he's attracted to her... then what? You just expect her to go "zomg Draco is so HAWT and he wants lil' ol' me?" You should know this isn't the story for that. ;) She would most likely be freaked out and/or in denial because let's face it... Draco fancying her? That's weird and plain unnatural -- at least where she's coming from. And let's not forget that she's much more interested in Theo, even if he's been keeping a low profile lately.**

* * *

For a few moments Hermione just stood sputtering. _She_ was the _bitch_? Wasn't Zabini forgetting some _really_ important details here? "You obviously have no clue what you're talking about!" she finally managed to get out past her ire.

"Right now I think _you_ are the one who is clueless, little girl," he sneered, coming closer to her. "Was that really necessary?"

Hermione's eyes flickered a bit in confusion. "You didn't even see what happened!"

"I saw his face and the mark you must have dealt him – it doesn't matter what he did, you had to fucking _hit_ him? Hit _him_? He didn't hurt _you_! He wouldn't."

"You don't even know what he did!" she yelled in frustration. Malfoy wouldn't hurt her? That was a laugh! He hadn't done anything but hurt her since she lost that damned bet.

"Then enlighten me. What did he do that was so horrible that you couldn't have resolved it more peacefully?"

Zabini was Malfoy's friend. Of course he was going to take his side. "It's none of your business," she growled.

"Then let me guess. Was it the part where he let go of his need for revenge and let you do pretty much what you please? Or the part where he protected you from his own house? Or maybe it's simply the part where he dares to want to be around you? I know it must be horrible to have someone as loyal as Draco fancy you."

Fancy? What the hell was he on about? Draco didn't _fancy_ anything but her perceived sluttish behavior. He seemed to think that the fact that a few people had kissed her meant she would go for anything with anyone. "Yes, he's very good at protecting me," she coldly said. "He dragged me outside and nearly got me killed! Quite the champion, that one. He wouldn't even take responsibility for it!"

Zabini snarled, and for a second Hermione actually considered if she should be making a run for it. "_You_ are supposed to be the brightest witch in our year?" he spat. "I have to say, you're remarkably stupid. You never wondered why you didn't feel a thing? Why your bleeding was so easily controlled?"

"I-I was lucky," she weakly said. "I was in shock and the wound wasn't that—"

"_I_ was the one who had to almost carry Draco back to his bed! He was in great pain, bleeding all over the place, and could barely keep conscious long enough to get there! He had taken _your_ pain and _your_ bloody wound, and now he has to live with a scar that should have been on _your_ body. He then ruined _all_ his own Quidditch aspirations by having the culprit reported. _Don't_ tell me he didn't take responsibility! If it hadn't been for Theo, he would even still be running around with that bloody injury!"

Hermione had been about to scoff at everything Blaise had said until he brought up Theo's name. "Theo knows about this supposed feat?" she asked in confusion.

"It's hard to keep anything from Theo," he growled. "He _is_ actually clever. He figured it out right away."

She shook her head. "I don't believe you. You're lying. Malfoy would _never_ do a thing like that, and if he did, he would make sure everyone knew about it."

"Why?" Zabini asked, contempt evident in his voice and face. "So people could mock him for taking the hit for a damn Mudblood, while you still slapped his face when he tried to kiss you – even knowing that he would do something like that for you?"

Her head snapped up and her cheeks heated. "I didn't tell you he tried to kiss me."

Blaise snorted. "Please. Don't assume I'm as clueless as you. Of course he did."

"So I'm not allowed to reject him? Is that it? Should I be grateful that he's willing to torture me _and_ treat me like a whore?"

Blaise shook his head in disbelief. "There's no talking to you, is there? Personally, I'm looking forward to the day he gets over you, and I'm sure that this vastly helped that end. But next time? Try maybe not being so cruel to someone who's not doing anything but showing a bit of interest in you. Has it never occurred to you that just maybe he didn't have any ulterior motives? That maybe if you had let him down gently, he would have respected that? That maybe he's broken enough without _you_ screwing him up further?"

Hermione gaped. _She_ wasn't the unreasonable one, _he_ was! Even disregarding how cruel Draco had been to her these past weeks, he quite often taunted her with how she was kissing the entire school, and if he didn't directly name what he perceived her to be, he certainly made enough hints at it. He had just thought she'd be easy. She hadn't hurt his feelings; she had only bruised his ego at the most.

The only place where Zabini had a point was that she shouldn't have slapped Draco. It really had been overreacting. She had just been so shocked and had reacted instinctively – and wrongly – to the threat. For that, she supposed she had better apologize the next day. As for Zabini… well, it didn't seem like they would ever agree, so she just turned her back on him and walked back up to the Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Being done with Hermione was easier said than done when he had to be around her all the time. The humiliation still burned brightly inside of him, but Draco did his best to hide it. It was better if she thought he didn't care. It was _much_ better if she thought it had just been spur of the moment and not something he'd wanted to do for more than a week. Wouldn't that be height of humiliation, to let her know how much he had wanted it? No, it was better this way.

Still, he couldn't quite seem to act normally. He couldn't focus on doing homework, so he didn't. After classes the next day, he had just brought her to his room, and was now actively ignoring that she was lounging on his bed, while he was doing nothing but playing with an old toy of his.

He couldn't look at her without reliving yesterday. His mind taunted him with all the reasons he should have _known_ she would turn him down, all the things she had said and done that very _day_ that should have been a clue. And then it taunted him with the memory of her soft lips followed by a stinging slap.

The thing that made him _really_ pathetic in his own opinion was that he allowed that memory to replay because he had liked the first bit. Even if it had only lasted for the briefest of seconds.

"Malfoy?" she hesitantly said.

Great. Now she wanted to talk. He would have to respond or she'd really find it odd. "Mm," he grunted.

"I, uh, I'm sorry."

About what? He'd be damned if he knew what she was talking about. "Good for you."

"No, I mean… I-I shouldn't have slapped you yesterday. It was too much. Sorry."

He stiffened. He did _not_ want to go there. He would prefer that it hadn't happened at all as far as she was concerned. "Yeah. Whatever," he muttered.

"Is that all?" she asked, sounding distressed.

He frowned, still not turning around. What did she expect? She'd bloody hurt him, ruined his fantasy, and now she expected 'sorry' to be enough? "I'd already forgotten about it," he lied. "You do the same."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco's back. He was obviously lying. For one thing, she didn't think he was prone to having sudden inexplicable memory losses, and for another, he wasn't acting himself today. He was being a whole other flavor of moody. "It was the surprise," she tried explaining. "I reacted instinctively."

"I told you to bloody _forget_ it!" he snapped. "It's not something that I care to remember in detail."

Her cheeks colored slightly. Of course he didn't want to be reminded. She had just wanted him to understand that she _knew_ she had been overreacting. "Sorry," she mumbled again.

He didn't respond but simply continued watching his… what?

"What are those things?" she asked, sitting up straight and trying to get a better look at them over his shoulder. They looked like two animated miniature wizards.

"Toys," was all he said.

"What do they do?"

"Duel."

He was certainly talkative today. She stood up and moved closer to him to get a better look. The small wizards did indeed seem to be taking turns in casting spells at each other. Some were deflected and some hit home with rather humorous results. Malfoy wasn't smiling.

"So… you just sit and watch them?" she prodded. "That won't generally keep children's interest for long."

He glowered at her. "You can instruct them."

"Oh." He was obviously still very sore at her. "What spells do they know?"

He looked rather irritated with her. "Common spells, no Unforgivables, and nothing advanced."

"Dare I ask why you're still bringing toys to Hogwarts?" she poked, knowing she was asking for it.

"Apparently you do," he coolly replied. "It was one of the few things my mother thought to take from my room before she fled. I didn't even have a chance to go home. You know this."

Hermione swallowed. '_Maybe he's broken enough without you screwing him up further!'_ Most of the time she really did forget how much he'd had to go through. "I'm sorry," she quietly said.

"I think we established that," he coldly answered.

"No, I mean for what you had to go through."

"_That_, Granger, had nothing to do with you, so I don't see why you bother being sorry."

"It's called compassion," she retorted, "maybe you should try it sometime."

Now he laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "You don't know real compassion, Granger. You're just paying lip service, saying what you think is required of you. Don't worry, I neither need nor _want_ your pity. My family has been reaping enough benefits to warrant ten times these… temporary setbacks."

She ground her teeth together and stayed quiet. He _really_ wasn't making it easy to try and be civil.

"Aren't you supposed to be up in the office smooching Theo today?" he suddenly asked. "Or is this some scheme to make it seem like I'm keeping you from him again? Really, do feel free to go."

"He canceled," she bit off, extremely annoyed that he was accusing her of scheming. "He said he had a lot of studying and we could catch up when I stopped wearing the bracelet in a few days' time."

"Canceled, huh?" Draco snidely said. "Suppose he might be losing interest yet? After all, you _are_ fast becoming used goods."

"Find a new song to sing, Malfoy."

"But I like this tune."

She narrowed her eyes again. He obviously didn't want to be pleasant, so maybe it was time to change her tactics. "So I talked to Theo today…" she began.

"I gathered that, what with Theo deciding you aren't all that important and all."

Hermione ignored him. "And he told me some very interesting things, backing up Zabini's story."

"You talked to Blaise?" Draco looked genuinely confused.

"He didn't tell you? He told me a very interesting story yesterday – about how you took my wound and all."

There was a brief silence. "Zabini talks too much," Draco finally muttered.

"Imagine my surprise," she archly said. "Especially when Theo had something similar to say."

He didn't respond but just kept staring at his toys.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she prodded.

He shrugged. "You didn't need to know. It had nothing to _do_ with you, no matter what Blaise or anybody else thinks."

That was vague. "So instead you lie to me? That's strange, even for you."

"I didn't lie, I never said, 'Oh, by the way, I haven't taken any excruciating pain from you today.'"

"No, but you said you didn't report the boy who sent the Bludger at me."

"I didn't."

"You sent Zabini to do it!"

"Right, so he did it."

He seemed to be deliberately playing obtuse. She rolled her eyes. "Is it true you have a scar?" she asked.

"What's it to you?"

"Can I see it?"

"_No_."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked again.

"I told you already."

"I didn't buy it."

"What good would it have done? Would you have been less of a bitch to me?"

She flushed a little. "Maybe."

He glanced at her and snorted. "Maybe you would have felt more obligated yesterday, is that it? You would have tolerated a caress that you clearly found offensive out of some sense of gratitude? No, thank you. I think I preferred the slap. At least that was honest."

Draco honestly didn't know what was worst – that she had slapped him yesterday, or that she had found out about him taking the wound and then apologized for doing it. This was a very good reason why she should never have found out. It made her feel obligated to him in a way he didn't want. Yesterday he'd been insane enough to try and kiss her even though he hadn't thought she particularly wanted it, but at least there had been hope that she would have liked it. Now she probably felt she owed it to him to tolerate it if he tried again. The thought made him sick and it made that pain in his chest grow again until he wasn't sure he could bear being in the same room with her anymore.

"I told you, I didn't mean to slap you!" she insisted.

"And now I know why you told me that."

She crossed her arms, looking as if she would like to thump him hard on the head. "Did you lie about the note too?"

"What note?"

She sighed impatiently. "The one that found its way to my friends after Crabbe put me in the hospital wing."

He gave her an odd, weary look. "I'm surprised you didn't figure _that_ one out yet."

"So it was you?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"Who knows _everything_ that's going on and apparently can't keep his mouth shut when questioned by annoying Muggleborn witches?"

"What, Theo? You think it was Theo? I'm not sure…"

"Why don't you go ask him? His room is just two doors down." Yes, why _didn't_ he just send her directly into the arms of Theo? Perfect, just perfect.

Her eyes widened. "I can't do that!"

"Ask him? Why not? You don't seem to have problems asking questions. Especially ones people don't want to answer."

"I can't go to his _room_."

"Why not?" He was genuinely curious.

"Going to his room is so personal!"

"You're in _my_ room almost every day!"

"That's different, you _make_ me come here and… it's just different."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't ask him." His expression belied the feeling of relief inside of him. It was a stupid feeling, seeing as it didn't make one whit of difference, but he had a lot of stupid feelings lately, so he supposed it fit.

"I can ask him tomorrow."

"Yeah, whatever. I don't actually care."

He decided that talking to her was very taxing and he was done for today, so he dismissed her. After she was gone, he sat, unmoving, staring at his toy wizards for hours, wishing that he really didn't care.

* * *

**Draco and Hermione get along so beautifully, don't you think?  
**

**"I could promise to not have any fun?" she tried.  
**

**"Seems to me that you can't help having 'fun' all the time."**

**"I'm not having any fun now."**

**His lip quirked slightly. "That's the point."**

**She narrowed her eyes. "I _could_, you know. Why would I care if you were around?"**

**"Good luck getting someone to snog you between here and my room."**

**He shouldn't have said that. He knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth. He really shouldn't have said that. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she purposefully began scanning for prospects.**


	45. Chapter 45

**You know, randomly spamming the A/Ns is probably the best prerogative from posting fan fiction online.**

**So, I went to have my first ultrasound on Friday and the baby mooned us for fifteen minutes... Yup, that brat is definitely mine...**

**Anyone else going to play Age of Conan once it goes live? I'll be surprised if anyone says yes. XD**

* * *

"Are you going to stay mad at me all day?"

"I can't _believe_ you told her!"

Blaise sighed, looking over at his blond friend, who was currently pouting. They were having a free period and had relocated to their common room, but so far Draco had refused to do anything even remotely entertaining.

"So I told her," Blaise said, shrugging. "She would have found out eventually."

"Maybe. We'll never know, because you _fucking told her_." Draco sounded really upset. Blaise wasn't sure he understood this at all.

"Is it really so bad that she knows?"

"Yes!"

"You were just going to let her slap you without telling her what you did for her?"

"Yes!"

"Well, good thing _I_ told her, then!"

"For pity's sake, Blaise. It's not what I wanted." Suddenly Draco looked weary and defeated.

"Do you even know what you want?" Blaise cautiously asked. Draco glared at him with renewed ire, and he was really glad that looks couldn't kill. "Well?" he persisted.

"Yes," Draco finally said.

"And that would be…?"

"None of your business."

"I take that to mean 'her', then."

"It's _none_ of your fucking _business_." Draco was raising his voice again.

"I probably helped you closer to getting what you want, you know. Birds like the self-sacrifice bit and keeping it a secret from her was a _really_ nice touch."

"So now she's obligated to act fake towards me, you mean? Now she might give me a pity snog? Forget it, I'm not going for it."

Blaise looked thoughtful. "Well, if you look at it like that…"

"I do."

"I had no idea you were so serious about her."

"I'm not."

"Then who cares why she's doing it? As long as you get what you want."

"You may think this is strange, Blaise, but I actually prefer my girls willing."

"She would be willing."

"… _And_ wanting it as opposed to being disgusted with it."

"You made her want it last time didn't you?"

Draco looked away without answering. She had slapped his face for daring to kiss her. He failed to see how that translated into 'want'.

"Obviously, I meant the last time you _succeeded_," Blaise clarified, seeing the look on his friend's face. He couldn't help but hate Granger for doing this to Draco. He wondered if she would have been cold-hearted enough to keep being so sanctimonious if she had seen the look on Draco's face after her cruel rejection. It had been obvious to Blaise that his friend had been deeply hurt, and he had just wanted to make her _see_. He hadn't meant to piss off Draco in the process.

"She was drunk," Draco coldly pointed out.

"Then get her drunk again!"

"You're suggesting I… I _violate_ her? Really smooth, Blaise."

"It wouldn't be like that. And who says you need to go very far? Just remind her why she liked snogging you, perhaps you wouldn't need alcohol the next time then."

"Robbing a girl of her senses because it's the only way to get her to give you the time of day _is_ a violation – no matter how far you choose to go! I'm not going to force her."

"We're not going to agree on this."

"You're damn right we're not."

"So you're just going to give up?"

"Weren't you the one who kept claiming this was a really bad idea and I shouldn't act on it? Well, it _is_ a really bad idea and I _won't_ act on it. It's just physical anyway, and it's just because of the bracelet. As soon as I take it off her, it will all fade."

Blaise shook his head, not believing for a second that anything would fade. "I changed my mind, obviously. I think you _should_ act on it. No need to suffer in vain."

"For the love of… Blaise, Theo wants her. She wants Theo. Theo is our friend, remember?"

"So?"

"So how would you feel if I went after Tracey?"

"I would fucking kill you. But I already made her mine; as far as I can tell, nobody claimed Granger yet."

"Theo kissed her first."

Blaise made a dismissive hand gesture. "Kisses don't count. Everyone's kissed her. It's becoming quite the sport this year. 'Hogwarts Granger Kissing'."

"Then wh—…" Draco cut off as he got Blaise's meaning. "You can't be serious!"

Blaise leaned back and smirked. "Time to raise the stakes."

"Absolutely not. I refuse to even have this conversation with you. Besides, she won't even _kiss_ me, much less… that."

"Don't make me try to go for it myself. I don't actually like the girl. But if you won't get your act together…"

"You stay the hell away from her! If I even hear a whisper that you may have been looking at her lasciviously, I swear… you're dead, and it will be slow and painful!"

"Way to not care, Draco."

"I care. Theo likes her. Theo is going to get her. _Without_ you interfering. I was a fool for what I tried to do, and I blame _you_ for the whole thing! Stop trying to put ideas in my head and start dealing with your _own_ problems instead!"

There was a flash of pain in Blaise's eyes. "I'm dealing," he quietly said. "I'm trying to move on. You'd better hope you never find out how hard it is to not go beg the girl you want for another chance."

Draco snorted. "I would never beg any girl for anything. There are plenty of other witches out there, several of them quite pretty and nice. Maybe Tracey was right – maybe you just couldn't handle that she dumped you first."

Hurt and anger flared in Blaise's eyes. "I'm going to forgive that you said that," he said in a tight voice, "because you're upset right now, and you don't know what this is like. But one day you will eat those words."

"I really doubt it," Draco said, getting up. "I'm going to my room to do my homework. See you in class!"

He turned his back on Blaise and hence didn't see the questionable salute his friend chose to give him.

* * *

It was still quite hard for Hermione to believe that Draco should _willingly_ have suffered any inconvenience for her, much less endured actual _pain_. Yet, both Zabini and Theo had said the same thing, and Draco himself hadn't denied it. Worse – he hadn't bragged or tried to use the feat in any way. He seemed genuinely disgruntled that she had found out. She had wanted to say 'thank you', but the words just wouldn't seem to come. Instead she had practically interrogated him, making him withdraw even more.

Knowing all this, she did feel even worse for hitting him, but she just didn't know how to make it better. She had tried to explain and apologize, but she knew it hadn't gone over well. He wasn't inclined to forgive her. She supposed it didn't matter if he did, they weren't exactly friends and he _had_ been incredibly nasty to her, but he hadn't deserved this reaction – not for… well, not for what he had done then. And she had also noticed that he hadn't retaliated. He hadn't thought up some awful thing for her to do that would ruin what was left of her good name and dignity. If anything, he seemed to be avoiding her as much as he could, while still keeping her close like he had said he would.

Maybe his feelings _had_ been hurt a little. After all, she supposed that he'd actually – by Malfoy standards – been acting almost decent towards her the past week or so. If he'd really been trying to get along and even to protect her from his house, then such a violent rebuff from one small advance would have to have hurt him. Just a little.

She felt awful.

The nasty looks Zabini kept sending her didn't help. She got the message, for crying out loud, no reason to rub it in!

Just three more days…

_And then what?_ The question gave Hermione pause. Well, then everything would return to normal, wouldn't it? She would finally be able to tell her friends what had really been happening, they would forgive her, everyone would agree that Draco was an evil git and… life would go on as it had before.

Truth be told, that sounded a little depressing. It was true that most of the time she had been wearing the bracelet had been far from pleasant, but at least something had been happening every day. She didn't know if it was the personality of Draco Malfoy or the nature of the bet, but she'd certainly not been bored. It was true that come this weekend, she could finally relax, but it seemed to her that the rest of this year would then revert to homework and Head Girl duties. Oh, joy.

She stopped and frowned.

Since when did she find homework and Head Girl duties dull, anyway? This was about her future! And, fine, she wasn't _bored_ around the sadistic blond Slytherin, but she was certainly not enjoying herself either. She couldn't wait until she could actually have _fun_ again.

"Would you hurry up already, Granger? Class is over; I don't plan on standing here all day!"

Hermione started at the irritable voice. Class _was_ over, and Malfoy apparently didn't appreciate having to wait for her. "You could just go ahead," she muttered.

"What? And allow you the time to snog some poor innocent bloke before coming down? I don't think so. I said you weren't leaving my sight and that's how it's going to be."

"Are you going to follow me to the loo as well?"

"Charming, Granger. Let's go."

* * *

It didn't take Draco many minutes to become thoroughly exasperated with Hermione. She seemed to be at her most annoying behavior today.

"I don't know why you're doing this," she said, pouting.

"Don't you?" he neutrally asked, fighting to keep the sigh out of his voice. Why couldn't she just be quiet? At least until they reached the dungeons and he could make a pretense of being consumed by homework.

"You don't want to be around me and I don't want to be around you, so why are you punishing _both_ of us?"

"Maybe I think it's worth it as long as you're bothered."

"You _would_. Why not make it easier on yourself?"

"Because I don't want to make it easier on _you_."

"I could promise to not have any fun?" she tried.

"Seems to me that you can't help having 'fun' all the time."

"I'm not having any fun now."

His lip quirked slightly. "That's the point."

She narrowed her eyes. "I _could_, you know. Why would I care if you were around?"

"Good luck getting someone to snog you between here and my room."

He shouldn't have said that. He knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth. He really shouldn't have said that. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she purposefully began scanning for prospects. Draco was thankful that they didn't seem to pass many other students – that was, until they turned a corner and they both spotted Theo coming in the opposite direction.

"No, Granger, don't—" Draco began, but she ignored him. He made a grab for her arm, but she dodged his hands. He could do nothing but watch what was about to happen. The girl really didn't have a merciful bone in her body. She had to _know_ that he was only giving her a hard time because she wouldn't kiss _him_. She didn't need to rub it in like this. And not with _Theo_ of all people.

She walked straight up to Theo, who looked slightly puzzled at her purposeful strides and even more baffled when she drew down his head and firmly placed her own lips against his.

Draco leaned against the wall. It was stupid, really. What did she think she was proving? He could feel the defiance and determination in her, but that was _all_ he felt. She didn't feel like she had the last time she'd kissed Theo. She wasn't getting any pleasure. True, he didn't much care for the visual, but he was hardly going to react when she was _only_ doing this to provoke him.

Theo seemed to recover from his surprise and drew her closer. Of course he would. Draco looked away. It was becoming just a little bit harder to not react. His heart was pounding and his breath coming a little bit faster as he fought to ignore them. He tried telling himself to get used to it, but he hadn't been quite prepared to have to watch.

Then, slowly, Hermione's defiance began melting away, being replaced by the feeling Draco dreaded the most. Or wanted. Depending on where he was in the picture. Right now, he definitely dreaded it. He knew that if he were to look at her, she would be flushed and her eyes would be closed. She would be leaning into Theo, seeking more, opening up to him.

Bile was rising in his throat. She was a cruel, cold-hearted bitch for doing this, for not stopping, for allowing herself to feel this way, when she knew… she knew. She had to know. He stared down at his ring. It was such a curse. He supposed there was a reason that you weren't supposed to make a girl wear the bracelet until you'd married her. If it made you want her like this, if it made you want to take a fist to your friend's face for having her in ways you never could… then this kind of arrangement really wasn't the best.

She was forgetting herself. Her pleasure was coursing through his veins. It was making him sick with disgust at both her and himself. The bile was growing more insistent and he had to swallow repeatedly. He needed to end it. They had been at it for a while now, anyway. Anyone would be getting impatient.

"All right, Granger, enough," he said, a little hoarsely to his own ears.

She didn't react.

"I said: Enough, Granger!" he repeated, a little louder.

The little bitch still ignored him… or maybe she hadn't heard. Could she really be that consumed by the kiss?

He forced himself to look in their direction. The sight was exactly what he expected, yet he still felt as if someone had punched him in the guts.

_Why won't she kiss me like that?_

It was a useless question, and he already knew the answer. She couldn't stand him. And she was probably more than halfway in love with Theo. Theo was the better person, the smarter person. Draco was a Malfoy, and that was really all he was. He was a nobody. Why _would_ she want to kiss him? He looked away again and took a deep breath. He needed to stop thinking so damn much. It didn't help matters.

He stepped closer to the pair and grabbed Hermione by the arm, forcefully pulling her away from Theo. "Are you deaf?" he snarled. "I have better things to do than stand around all day watching you snog people."

She didn't even look at him. Instead she was still looking at Theo and biting her lip and giggling, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. Funny how he hadn't thought this thing could hurt any more.

"You _proved_ your _point_," he said, giving her a very ungentle push in the direction they were going. "Dungeons!"

"Feel free to prove your point any time," Theo said in a low, teasing voice and Hermione giggled again.

Draco loathed it when she giggled. "Go!"

Still looking disgustingly like she had just been kissed and loved it, Hermione did as ordered. Draco was about to follow her when Theo's calm voice stopped him.

"No matter what you tell yourself, it hurts, doesn't it?"

* * *

**Gahhh... You're so spoiled... Teasers are difficult to find sometimes. :P**

**"And you're such an expert on girls," Draco muttered sarcastically.**

**Unfortunately it took more than sarcasm to fend off Blaise. "I've been around."**

**"Slut."**

**Blaise's eyes widened in surprise and humor. "Did you just call me a slut?"**


	46. Chapter 46

**Dramione Awards results are in. Go check it out. I won _Best Smut_ with _In The Darkness All Cats Are Grey_; _Best Heart-Wrenching/Angst_ with _Silencio_; _Best Kiss_ with _The Bracelet, Chapter 29_; and _Most Prolific Author._**

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**All in all... a very good time to be me. Thanks to everyone who voted, even those of you who didn't vote for me. The more votes, the better Awards.**

**I have exams right around these days. That's why there's more delays.**

* * *

Draco carefully schooled his features before turning back to Theo. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Enough is enough, Draco. Just admit it so we can move on."

Draco made sure not to look away, not to flinch. Theo would pick up on it. "What is it you want me to admit?" he asked. "I haven't done anything wrong." _Except trying to kiss your girl, but she already set me straight on that one._

"You want Granger. Seeing her with someone else hurt, didn't it?"

"Why did you do it if you thought it would hurt me? That's not very nice, Theo."

"I didn't. She did. I wasn't about to reject her and jeopardize my own chances."

No, Draco wouldn't have, either. He swallowed. "Well, you're wrong."

"You're just going to keep denying it, even if it means lying to my face?"

"_Why_ is this so important to you?" Draco was feeling bewildered. "Are you jealous? Believe me, you have no reason to be. Even _if_ I liked her it wouldn't make a difference. She likes _you_, no reason for you to doubt that."

"I'm not jealous, and I know she likes me," Theo calmly stated. "But I can't really act on it until you get over her."

Draco stared at the other Slytherin, wondering if he'd gone mental. "What?"

"I wouldn't throw it in your face like that. I can't be seeing her as things are right now."

"Then what?" Draco was confused.

"Acknowledge it, Draco. If you don't, then it will just keep building as it has for weeks now."

"What would acknowledging anything help? If something _were_ there, then leaving it alone would be more likely to make it go away, wouldn't it?"

"No, it wouldn't. Because you'd also fail to fully acknowledge that…" Theo hesitated. "That she doesn't want you, Draco. It's too late for that."

"I know _that_." Never mind that Theo's words were causing a fresh amount of pain to surface. "And you're still wrong."

"_Do_ you know?" Theo quietly asked. "Or do you still hope that she'll realize that you're not such a bad person? She _knows_ that you aren't. She _knows_ everything you've done for her. She _still_ doesn't want you."

Draco didn't think he'd ever heard such cruel words from Theo before. He couldn't figure out why this person that he used to consider a friend would say such things. He had already conceded the girl, what more did he want? "So that's what you wanted me to understand, is it?" he asked, battling his anger and hurt at Theo's cold demeanor. "That she doesn't want me? Honestly, Theo. Why not just admit that you don't like her going to my room? You don't need to be so bloody nervous, there's _nothing_ going on."

"I know. And there never will be. I'm not trying to hurt you, Draco. If I were, I wouldn't give a damn about _how_ you felt about her. But I can't wait forever; if I begin to lose her interest, I'll have to act. I'd just rather not our friendship suffer anymore than it already has."

"Nothing's been suffering," Draco lied. As of this moment, he actually didn't regard Theo as a friend anymore. Friends didn't kick you when you were down. "Although you lecturing me about my lack of appeal with the girls isn't really what I would consider friendly," he added for good measure.

"You've been avoiding me, and you haven't been very subtle about it," Theo pointed out. "And I'm sure you have plenty of appeal with some girls. Pansy always adored you. But Hermione… you can't expect her to ever want to be with you after the way you've been treating her for years. She might forgive, but forgetting is a whole lot harder."

"When will you get it, Theo?" Draco ground out, tired of hearing Theo go on and on about why Hermione would never want him. He _knew_ she hated him already, damn it. "I don't _expect_ Granger to want _anything_! I don't _want_ her to want anything! Stop being so bloody paranoid and leave me alone!"

* * *

When the door opened, Hermione jumped to her feet. What had taken him so long? Hadn't he claimed he wanted to keep her in his sight? She steeled herself for the insults that he was sure to throw at her. She had lost her head in her quest to provoke him and she knew that his words were probably the least of her worries, but it had been worth it. She would do it again just to show him that he would never be able to control her.

Strangely, Draco seemed calm. He closed the door quietly and just gave her a weary glance before going over to his desk.

"Well?" she prodded.

"Well, nothing. Point taken. Sit down and be quiet… please."

Hermione gaped. "Just like that? You're not going to insult me about my oh-so-loose morals?"

Draco frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"It's not like you ever do anything else."

He looked away. "Yeah, well, it was Theo, wasn't it?"

She didn't understand. "So?"

"So you like him. Why wouldn't you kiss a bloke you like? I just wish you'd wait a few days before repeating it. He won't grow tired of waiting."

"So now you think it would be ok if I had a relationship with Theo?"

"Yeah, why not?" he muttered. "It seems to be what you both want…"

"In spite of how you feel about me?"

At this his head jerked up. "What do you mean?" _Please, she can't know._

She sneered lightly. "Oh, come on, Malfoy. You never waste any time in calling me a slut or a bitch."

"I don't think I ever called you a slut," he quietly replied.

"No? Well, you made the insinuation clear enough."

He shrugged. "I'm not narrow-minded enough to mean it."

"Then why do you say it?" she asked. "Why do you throw it in my face every time you're in a bad mood?" She actually looked wounded. He marveled at that.

He thought about what to answer her. He couldn't very well say, '_Because I want you to kiss me and I'm a petty and jealous, _pathetic_ being._' Well, he could, but he didn't want to. "It's just a way to insult you that works, he finally said. "I thought that was pretty obvious. I mean, the thing with Blaise was just Blaise being his usual annoying self, and as for the only two other boys you kissed, I should think that you have at least as much right to sample boyfriend material as anyone else. It's not like you've done anything to be ashamed of. You haven't actually sought out anyone else since you first kissed Theo and figured you liked it. You couldn't exactly help it if I took advantage of you when you were drunk, could you?"

She tilted her head and frowned at him. "That's new. And I suppose I'm not a bitch, either, then?" Her sarcasm was almost palpable. She didn't trust him. He didn't blame her.

He couldn't help but smirk a little, though. "No, you certainly can be. No question about that."

"Ah, now I know you again," she muttered.

"But," he continued, "how else are you supposed to cope around Slytherins – more specifically, around me?"

She just stared at him. "Who are you and what did you do with Malfoy?"

"I'm not sure," he muttered.

"What changed?" she quietly asked.

"Nothing," he replied, fighting a need to squirm at her gaze. "Everything. Me. You didn't notice? It's a damn inconvenience, I can tell you that."

It was her turn to shrug. "I did notice something. Figured you were finally growing up a little. You know, losing some of your need to bully people around all the time. Mostly, you still like bullying me, though..."

"Growing up," he murmured. "Is that what this is?" He suspected it was something far, far worse.

She smiled at him. "You know, a mature Draco Malfoy might not be so bad," she mused. "I mean, he might never fight for equality or even be nice to most people, but he… wouldn't be so bad."

He lost his breath. _Pathetic_. Damn her for not just staying contrary. He didn't know how to deal with a nice Hermione.

_'She doesn't want you, Draco. It's too late for that.'_

But why did he want _her_? She was for the most part annoying and insensitive to his feelings. Not to mention that she hated him and did her best to spite him whenever she could. She was hardly ever nice to him – not that he wanted her to be, because that was even more unbearable than when she was cruel to him. When she was nice, when she treated him as if he mattered, he wanted her so much that he couldn't think. Unfortunately, this also resulted in him forgetting that she loathed him. No, it was better when she was cross with him, then he couldn't forget that she wanted nothing to do with him.

Hope was such a dangerous emotion. Theo was probably right that he should try to get rid of it once and for all. But how could there not be hope? If he hadn't had hope when the situation was hopeless, he probably wouldn't even have made it through last year.

"Don't count your blessings just yet, Granger," he growled, trying to control his stupid reactions. "I'm _still_ Draco Malfoy, I'm _still_ a Slytherin, and I _still_ hold the ring to your bracelet."

"Yes," she acknowledged, "but who says any of those things needs to be bad? You decide who Draco Malfoy is, you decide how you want to use your Slytherin qualities, and you've already used the power of your ring to protect me."

Draco's heart sped up to an impossible speed. Was she saying she believed he could be more than what he had been told to be his entire life?

'_It's too late._'

She had responded to him in a way he could never have dreamed the one time she had let him kiss her. Had it really only been the alcohol? Or had she been so caught up in the moment that she'd forgotten all the reasons to hate him? Could he make her forget again? By herself? Or was it truly too late for any of this?

And what if he succeeded? If he managed to somehow seduce her into forgetting that she hated him long enough to stop his craving, what then? Would it end there or would one of them end up wanting more? Would he be ok with whatever the repercussions might be to her or himself as long as he got what he wanted? It could never progress, so wasn't he just being a selfish bastard even thinking about this? Didn't she deserve a chance at something real with Theo?

How _did_ one give up hope?

It was certainly easier to do if she wasn't smiling at him, so he dismissed her rather abruptly. He noticed that she wasn't the least surprised to be dismissed and it made him worry that perhaps she was getting to know him a little too well.

* * *

"I hear Theo kissed her."

"I didn't know he was the type to kiss and tell. Shame on him."

Blaise was as usual bothering Draco. Sometimes Draco wondered why he didn't just spend more time in his own room instead of subjecting himself to this. His life would certainly be more peaceful. Then again, it was a nice distraction from thinking about Granger – except when Blaise chose to _talk_ about Granger. Like now. He sighed.

"It was in the hallway. Someone saw. They say you were there and you were looking annoyed. Perhaps even jealous."

"You're turning into Theo with your gossip and sources, you know that?" Draco wasn't about to talk about that incident.

Blaise waved his hand dismissively. "What exactly Granger is doing around here makes for good gossip. Anyway, they say it was a pretty heated kiss. Is that true?"

"I'm sure you already know the answer to that."

"You ought to move a bit faster, then," Blaise said, his expression turning thoughtful.

Draco suppressed a groan. "I don't plan to move at all!"

"Of course you do. You're just so thick-headed that it'll be too late by the time you actually _do_ something.

_'She doesn't want you, Draco. It's too late for that.'_

He swallowed. "It's already too late. Let it go."

"That's bollocks. Of course it's not too late. What gave you that idea? So she turned you down once – it doesn't mean anything. Girls are strange and what they might hate one second they love the next."

"And you're such an expert on girls," Draco muttered sarcastically.

Unfortunately it took more than sarcasm to fend off Blaise. "I've been around."

"Slut."

Blaise's eyes widened in surprise and humor. "Did you just call me a slut?"

"Yes." Draco was perfectly deadpan. Mostly because he didn't find this subject very amusing.

"Well, ok, maybe I am," Blaise conceded. "Or was. But I actually learned a thing or two."

"Yeah, don't kiss a girl if her boyfriend is in the room." Draco knew that his attempts to stray from the topic were doomed but he had to try nonetheless.

Blaise winced. "That too. But I also learned that you can't take anything a girl says or does at face value. You have to do and say the exact right things at the exact right times in order to win her over. And no two girls are alike. Some require more skill."

"Fascinating."

"You're not working with me here."

"No, I'm really not."

"How many girls have you been with? Two? And did your little summer fling even move past a kiss on the cheek?"

"All none of your business."

"I commend your discretion, but now is not the time if you want to make a plan for how to get Granger's attention."

"That's the part you keep missing," Draco said, finally getting up. "I _don't_ want to make a plan. She belongs with Theo, any idiot can see that!"

"Well, then I must not be an idiot because I don't see it."

"I don't want it, Blaise. I know you're trying to help, but let it go."

"I know the risk of failure is scary," Blaise calmly said. "And there's always the risk. But is that really what scares you, or is it the chance of success that has you running?"

"I don't _want_ the success!"

"Or maybe it just scares you to actually admit that you deserve just as much happiness as everyone else."

"Don't you get it? There would _be_ no happiness. Any kind of campaign to get Granger would just result in someone ending up miserable."

"You afraid to hurt Theo?"

"Fuck Theo. Just leave this be!"

Before Blaise could recover from his surprise from Draco's last statement, Draco had retreated to his room.

* * *

**"Why does it matter how I act?" she demanded.**

**"Because I want something from you," he said so softly that she wasn't completely sure that she had heard him right.**

**"What?" she asked, frowning.**

**"Would you…" he hesitated and then swallowed. "Would you consider perhaps making a deal with me?"**


	47. Chapter 47

**I have changed my profile to reflect the awards and I added links to the banners I received, should anyone be interested.**

**Exams. Suck. :P**

* * *

There had been a big announcement just now at lunch. One that surprised everyone including Draco. Most were pleased, though, and everyone was talking in excited voices.

The Hogsmeade visit was to be held the very next day. The reason that the announcement had been made this late was security, and as an extra safety measure, nobody would be allowed to send out owls until after everyone was safely back. And there would, of course, be an obscene amount of Aurors present.

Draco frowned and looked around. Theo and Hermione had both obviously known. Neither had seen it fit to tell Draco. He didn't know if the Patil girl knew, but he assumed she didn't. He rather _hoped_ she didn't.

Why couldn't he have been trusted? Hadn't he been Theo's friend as well as his deputy? Did they honestly still think he'd do anything to harm anyone? Did they still consider him a threat? Did _she_ still consider him a threat? He glanced at Hermione.

Hogsmeade weekend had never seemed less fun.

* * *

"Why won't you do anything to get your little Muggleborn? You're practically obsessed with her!"

"Shh!" Draco glanced nervously at Professor Flitwick.

Blaise wasn't the least discouraged. "No, not until you give me an answer I can use."

"It's none of your business," Draco hissed. "Just leave me—"

"Mr. Malfoy! Less talk. Perhaps you could benefit from taking some notes, hmm?" Professor Flitwick sent Draco a meaningful glance and Draco flushed and shot Blaise a murderous look. Blaise, of course, was innocence personified.

"You have nothing to lose," Blaise continued, as soon as Flitwick's back was turned. "The worst that can happen is that you don't make any progress, and you're already not doing _that_."

Draco pressed his lips together and considered spearing Blaise's hand with his quill. He could call it an accident. It was sure to happen all the time.

"You're running out of time, Draco. In _two_ days you're going to have a more difficult time getting close to her. It would be best if you could lay a foundation before that. You know, at least make her curious."

"_Why_ are you so insistent?"

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco winced. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Blaise was smirking ever so slightly, and Draco considered whether he could jam his quill into his eye socket instead… and maybe still call it an accident.

"I'm living vicariously through you, mate. Thought you realized that by now," Blaise murmured.

Draco didn't reply.

"Look, Draco," Blaise implored. "I understand that it's not very nice to be rejected. It's not like I haven't tried it. But you have to see it from her point of view. She doesn't know what a lovesick puppy you really are."

Draco glared at Blaise, wondering if a quill in his eye _and_ boils all over his body could still be called an accident.

"She only sees what you present to _her_, and my guess is that you don't want her to know what's going on and are overcompensating and thereby shooting yourself in the foot."

"Would you bloody stop trying to analyze me?" Draco growled.

"Mr. Malfoy! Five points from Slytherin, and if you cannot remain quiet, you will have to change seats."

"I should probably tell you," Blaise said with a grin, "that I put a nice little charm up so the good professor can't hear me. Perhaps I should have included you in it…"

Draco scowled and raised his hand. "Sir? Sir? I _would_ rather like to change seats if it's ok with you, Professor."

* * *

Since classes had ended, Draco had been very quiet, almost lost in thought. Hermione glanced at him and frowned. He hadn't even complained when she wasn't ready to leave the second class ended! She had expected moodiness and questions – at least once they'd reached his room. After all, she had seen the way he had glared at her at lunch and she assumed that he didn't like not being in on all the secrets. Right now, however, he was just contemplating something in silence, seemingly not paying any attention to her at all.

"Aren't you going to ask me why we didn't tell you?" she prodded, ever the little suicide candidate.

"Hm?" Draco absent-mindedly turned towards her.

"Why we didn't tell you," she repeated.

"I'm a menace to society, of course you didn't tell me."

"You're such a prat sometimes, you know that?"

He smiled without humor. "That's what you like about me, I'm sure."

"You wish," she grumbled.

"I wish for a lot of things," he agreed. "I used to get what I wished for a lot more often than I do these days."

"Buck up, they say it builds character!" she cheerfully informed him.

His humorless smile turned into a smirk. "You saying I need more _character_?"

"You know what I mean," she muttered, scowling. What was with him today?

"You mean that I should be more like your lackluster friends," he pensively said.

She stiffened and raised her chin at him. "You'll never be like them. They have a sense of honor that you could never even _dream_ of possessing."

"A person can dream of possessing many things," he replied. "But if you say I'm doomed to failure, why should I even try?"

"Why are you asking me this?" She was confused. "Why do you act as if my answer will make a difference?"

"Because it will," he calmly stated.

She crossed her arms. "In what way? Will you get worse just to spite me just because you can't bear that I might think you'd be improving?"

"You'd have to find out, wouldn't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I want you to better yourself! If everybody were a better person and nobody were… well…" She made a very telling gesture at him. "Then this world would be a much better place!"

"You're really not giving me much of a chance here, Granger," he quietly said. "I'm trying, but you almost act as if you don't want me to. What am I supposed to think?"

"Why does it matter how I act?" she demanded.

"Because I want something from you," he said so softly that she wasn't completely sure that she had heard him right.

"What?" she asked, frowning.

"Would you…" he hesitated and then swallowed. "Would you consider perhaps making a deal with me?"

"What kind of deal?" she asked.

He winced slightly. "Hopefully one that you won't find too bad," he muttered.

"What is it you want?" she tried again. Really, he wasn't being too forthcoming about this.

He hesitated again, staring at the floor and coloring slightly. "I thought… I mean… I know you don't understand, but…" He was avoiding looking at her and his voice faded into a mumble.

She remained silent, hoping that he'd eventually get to the point.

"I would like… I-I want to propose a deal where you kiss me," he finally muttered.

"_WHAT_?" Hermione stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head.

Draco felt his blush deepen and his chest constrict. "I'd make it worth your while," he mumbled barely audibly. "I know you don't want it but… I'd make it worth it to you. I promise."

"No," she said, emphatically shaking her head. "No way!"

His heart sank. "You didn't even hear me out," he said very quietly.

_Draco, you idiot! You knew she wasn't going to consider it. Why did you bring it up? She would rather snog a toad than peck you on the cheek. Do you actually enjoy rejection?_

"I don't need to!" she said, still shaking her head and edging away from him as if he'd suddenly jump her.

There was a lump forming in his throat. "I see," he said. "It's funny, because I knew you'd react this way and still I tried. Isn't that the definition of insanity or something?" He turned his back on her so she wouldn't notice just how stricken he was.

His want was beyond pathetic. Since when had she given him any reason to think that she might welcome any advances from him? Since when was she even remotely nice to him? She hadn't and she wasn't… Ok, she had been rather nice just yesterday, and maybe that was the reason for this insane idea that she might actually consider saying yes if he only compensated her enough. But, no matter how much she rejected him, he was still drawn to her and it was so hard to not just… try. He could feel her now as he always could; she was a bit wary of him right now, actually. And she was freaked out about the whole situation. It wasn't flattering at all. Yet, so often he felt warmth in her… kindness, gentleness… a very pure sense of _good_. It just wasn't directed at him, not ever. He had messed up too badly.

_'She doesn't want you, Draco. It's too late for that.'_

He buried his face in his hands for a second before letting them run through his hair.

It was done. He had tried every angle he could think of, even resorting to bribery, but her disgust for him ran too deep. She wasn't about to change her mind about him any time soon. He could die for her and she would still suspect him of some sort of evil ulterior motive. Soon it would be over, she would be free and he'd exchange this suffering with another kind of suffering when he suddenly wouldn't be able to feel her anymore.

He really hadn't wanted anything more than just one more kiss.

He'd even been prepared to offer her early freedom. It was a measure of his desperation that he was willing to let go of her two days early just to have one stupid kiss that would probably last all of five seconds before she couldn't stand it anymore. Her rejection left him feeling positively crushed. She wouldn't even pretend to consider it. And this time, she even knew that he'd taken her pain that day, but she still didn't even want to let him finish his proposition.

He really did need a girlfriend. Perhaps he'd begin looking for one next week when he'd once again have nothing else to do except homework. Perhaps he might find someone who could fill the void. Perhaps she'd even wear the bracelet when he kissed her, letting him feel her.

The thought made his stomach heave. For some reason he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else wearing the bracelet. It was Hermione's to wear. Even if she hated it with a passion. He didn't think he'd ever be able to put it on anyone else's wrist.

He felt her move behind him, where she still sat on his bed. That was another funny thing… Even though she'd never fallen asleep there again after that one time he'd forgotten about her a lifetime ago, he sometimes thought he could feel her there, even catch her scent. It soothed him in a way that nothing else could. It made him feel… less alone. Feeling her emotions had a bit of the same effect, but when she slept the feelings dimmed and she felt so far away.

He was fooling himself, he knew. He _was_ alone. Blaise had proved himself a very good, albeit extremely annoying, friend and he had his mother, but other than that… there was nobody. This month had been one long pretense to him even before he became attracted to her. He'd been lonely for so long that actually feeling close to someone had been… overwhelming. Even though he knew it wasn't real, that he wasn't close to her, he enjoyed pretending so much that he didn't want it to end.

And still he had wanted to offer to end it just for one kiss, one taste of something that was just a little bit more tangible.

He would never have that. He might as well acknowledge it. He would have kisses and more, of course, but he wouldn't have that intimacy, which was really all he was looking for. Not with anyone. Somehow he just knew that it had eluded him and he was doomed not to find it again.

"What were you going to offer me?" she whispered behind him, still feeling apprehensive.

"It doesn't matter," he said with a sigh. "You turned it down, remember?"

"But don't I get to know what it was?" she asked.

"No, Granger, you don't. If you had heard me out before turning me down, I would have told you, but you didn't even give me that courtesy, so forget it."

"You would have preferred I let you think I might say yes?" she said, shaking her head again. "That wouldn't have been kind."

"Oh, and screaming 'no' before I even finished talking was kind?" It was too hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice, so he didn't even try. "If that's your kindness, then please, I'd rather you be cruel to me."

"That's not fair," she quietly said. "You sprung this on me, how did you expect me to act?"

"I _expected_ you to act exactly the way you did. I just hoped that you wouldn't. I hoped that you might show me a little more consideration than that. I even hoped that you'd at least consider what I had to offer you in exchange. It would only have meant a few seconds of discomfort for you to get what _you_ want."

He swallowed once again. He hated being reminded of how distasteful she found kissing him to be. It wasn't fair that he should want it so much when she wanted it so little. He'd give anything for her just to want the same thing as him for nothing more than ten minutes of her life.

"I think that maybe you just want what you can't have," she said, looking thoughtful.

"That's not how I work."

"How many things in your life haven't you been able to get?"

"Touché," he muttered, unwilling to argue the fact. True, he had always been spoiled and he knew it. Yet, he was fairly sure that when it came to girls, he couldn't just have his pick. For one thing, anyone who wasn't a pureblood had always been out of the question. And for another… they simply didn't always like him and quite a few didn't even pretend they did in spite of his family's money. Pansy was the only one who had genuinely liked him and he'd adored her for it. He hadn't ever been inclined to try and go for any of the girls who obviously weren't interested.

"I would still like to know what you thought would make me accept your deal."

He sighed. She would be the death of him yet. "Freedom," he finally admitted. "I thought your freedom might be worth it to you."

"Freedom," she echoed, slightly confused.

He glanced at her before looking away again. "Apparently I overestimated the value of you getting this Hogsmeade weekend to spend with your friends as you saw fit. Or perhaps I just underestimated your distaste for me. It hardly matters, though, does it?"

She slowly shook her head as if not quite comprehending. He could feel the motion and her confusion, but he still didn't want to look at her. It had been the only thing he'd had to offer that she might have accepted.

It wasn't enough.

She carefully cleared her throat before she softly spoke. "I'll do it."

* * *

**A preview? Ugh...  
**

**Her eyes widened. "I'll be _feeling_ you?"**

**"You wanted insight, didn't you? You'll never get a greater insight than that."**

**"You've been able to do this all this time?" she incredulously asked.**

**"Yeah. Don't look at me like that. I wasn't going to just _do_ it for no reason."**


	48. Chapter 48

**I'm sorry to say that it seems some of you will be disappointed. This thing, threatening to become hellishly long, is nowhere _near_ over. If you get bored with it, feel free to insert your own "... and they lived happily ever after" and walk off, but unfortunately I'm not one for making plots easy on myself and I still have miles to go. Begging me just to end it won't work as the person I'm writing it for (me) wants certain things included. ;)**

**A special and too delayed thanks to my Brit-on-the-side _Ophelia_ for making sure that I don't Americanize too much and providing me with some nice alternatives when I do.**

* * *

At first her words didn't quite register with him, but then they slowly sunk in.

_'I'll do it.'_

"You'll…" He shot to his feet. "You'll _what_?"

"Did you change your mind?" she asked. "That would be so typical of you."

He ignored her statement. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"You'll free me, won't you?"

"I wasn't talking about some peck on the cheek," he warned. "I wanted it to rival last time."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I can slap you if that's what you wish…"

He sneered at her. "That didn't count. It wasn't a kiss."

"So you want me to be drunk?" she asked suspiciously.

"No!" He ran his hands through his hair, feeling thoroughly distressed and confused and… excited! Could she really mean it? Would she really allow this or was it just one more way of tormenting him? "I just want to feel that again," he muttered. "That's all I want."

She looked at him, suspicion radiating off her. "That almost went out of hand and we were in _public_. If you plan on doing that here, in private, near your _bed_…" She frowned down at the bed she was sitting on as if it had done her a personal offense by being the place where he slept.

He laughed at the absurdity. "Think for a second, Granger," he scoffed. "You _aren't_ smashed this time, everything is completely different, and you're just doing this to buy your freedom. What are the odds that your mind won't stay perfectly clear and that you won't knee me if you think I go too far?"

"I have permission to knee you?" she asked just a tad too eagerly.

"Absolutely not!" he hurried to say. "I'm just saying that if you don't like what's happening, you'll probably find a way to put me in my place."

"Hmm…" She still looked skeptical.

"I'm very flattered that you think you will become overcome with lust…" he mocked, "but I think you have enough moral strength to overcome the evil temptation that is my body."

Pink tinged her cheeks and she scowled at him. "Get over yourself."

"Hey, I'm not the one nervous that anything will get out of hand."

"I'm not _nervous_, I just don't want to risk you scheming to take advantage of me."

He felt extremely annoyed that she would think this of him. "I won't," he snapped. "_Just_ a kiss, nothing more."

She nodded her acknowledgement of this. "I still don't understand _why_ you want this…"

"Enough talk. On your feet."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Why?"

"You changed your mind, didn't you? Well, I'm collecting. And unless you want me to collect on the bed…"

As he had predicted, she immediately jumped to her feet.

"Good girl," he murmured, earning him a murderous look. "Now," he said, walking closer to her, "please stop looking as if you'd just as soon clobber me as kiss me."

"How am I supposed to look, then?" she challenged.

"As if I'm about to kiss you and you know it won't hurt?" he quietly suggested.

He could clearly feel the apprehension on her. She was becoming skittish, and she even flinched when one of his movements were too sudden. His heart sank to his feet and he stopped right before her, unable to go through with it. He couldn't kiss her like this. Not when she actually seemed a bit _scared_ of him. He closed his eyes, remembering a time when she had pressed against him, willingly offering him her lips. Just one time and it had reduced him to… this.

It wouldn't work. This wouldn't be anything like the kiss haunting his dreams no matter how much he wished for it. He sighed and stepped back.

"What's wrong?" she asked, frowning at him. "I said I'd do it."

"I changed my mind," he murmured.

"You can't!" she immediately objected. "We had an agreement!"

He snorted. "I don't feel like it anymore, deal with it."

"You promised me something," she said, her voice slightly unsteady. "I was willing to go through with my part, aren't you going to go through with yours?"

He said a few choice words that Hermione decided weren't suited for her ears and promptly blocked from her mind. "That's really _all_ you care about, isn't it?" he growled. "Being free of me?"

"You _promised_!"

"And _you_ promised me a kiss that could rival the first one."

"How do you know it _wouldn't_ have?"

"You were _scared_, Granger. It wouldn't have been good when you were bloody scared of me! I'm not that callous."

"I am _not_ scared of you!"

"Don't lie to me when I can feel it! You really think that I…" He swallowed and looked away. "You really think I might lose control and hurt you, don't you? I don't know how to fix that, so please just go away."

She crossed her arms. "No. We had an agreement."

"You really don't understand, do you?"

She shrugged, still with her arms crossed. "How am I supposed to understand? You don't make any sense! First you want something at all cost and then, suddenly, you don't want it anyway."

"I knew you'd probably not be eager or anything, but I just didn't think you'd be scared."

"I'm _not scared_."

"I felt it, Granger."

"Well, you must have read me wrong."

"I _never_ read you wrong! I know your emotions better than my own." He laughed bitterly. "I wonder how that feels to you, to know that nobody will ever know you as well as I do…"

"You obviously don't know me that well if you think I'm scared, Malfoy."

"Ah, but I do. It's the curse of the thing, didn't you know? I _know_ you, there's not a single thing you've been doing that I don't know about as long as it made you feel more than the vaguest flicker of emotion. I even know all your favorite dishes." His mouth turned to a bitter line. "It's actually hard to be cruel to someone when their happiness makes you feel close to ecstasy. And it's feeling those things that's making kissing you so… addictive."

Hermione looked at the bracelet around her wrist. "You think it's because of this thing that you liked it?"

He slowly nodded. "It's hard to explain what happens when I get the feedback… It's very intense, very gratifying."

"So I'm betting you'll get a whole lot of witches to wear it now. Poor things. Maybe next time you should skip the cruelty phase."

He stared at her. "Uh… right. Why don't you just go now? Get some rest or socialize with your moronic friends."

She shook her head.

"Look, Granger… the deal is off. I appreciate your sacrifice but I'm not into the whole fear thing. If I were, I'd have been more thrilled to follow You-Know-Who."

"Am I scared now?"

He paused. No, she wasn't scared. She was mostly annoyed, actually. "I'm not trying to kiss you right now," he said. "There's no danger."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "As if there's _any_ danger in kissing you."

"You wouldn't have known it…"

"Are you going to do it or not?" she interrupted. "I'm not getting any younger over here."

He shook his head. "This was all just such a bad idea from the beginning."

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "I swear, sometimes I'd give anything to know what's going on inside that thick skull of yours."

His eyes gained a thoughtful gleam. "Anything?"

"Don't be getting any ideas. Besides, past experience tells me that you won't want whatever it is anyway."

"Well…" He looked at her pensively. "There _might_ be one way…"

"What?" She was feeling slightly apprehensive at allowing him to change the deal.

"You would get the insight you want so badly _and_ your freedom."

"And in turn you'd get what?"

He gave her an assessing glance. "In turn you not only kiss me but actually make an effort to enjoy it. Help me actually get the feeling I'm looking for."

"_WHAT_?"

He flinched. "You know, it's really not flattering when you do that."

"Why does it even make that big a difference?"

"It does. It was you enjoying it as much as me that made last time so intense."

Hermione blushed a little. "I was drunk," she mumbled.

"Do you really need to hide behind something in order to allow yourself to even consider liking it?" he angrily asked. "It's not like there will be any consequences. Nobody is watching this time. Nobody will know but you and me. You're perfectly safe."

She was indecisive for a few seconds, biting her lower lip and fidgeting. "Well…" she finally said. "No groping!"

"Groping wasn't part of the deal," he calmly said. "In fact, I don't think I ever tried to grope you. Not even when you slapped me, although you'd think I had."

Hermione's blush returned. "I already _said_—"

"Yes, yes." He waved a hand dismissively. "Do we have a new deal?"

"Ok, fine," she said, crossing her arms. "But I can only _try_."

"As long as you do try, it's fine," Draco quietly answered.

"So… uh… how do we go about this?" she asked a bit awkwardly.

"First, you keep quiet while I try to do my part," he said, closing his eyes.

He'd never done this before, and he only had the basic idea how this worked. He wasn't even too sure he really wanted it to. A few seconds went by and nothing happened. It wasn't working. He frowned. It had to work, or she wouldn't give him what he wanted. It was the price he had agreed to pay.

He tried again.

It was as if there was an invisible wall that he didn't know how to tear down. He knew that he had to want to do it in order to be able to, but he sort of _did_ want to even if he didn't. He wanted to do it because then she would give him what he craved. He _needed_ for this to work, damn it.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, actually sounding concerned.

"Nothing," he said. "I'm just not very good at this."

_Open up for crying out loud. I don't mind whatever she senses, I really don't._

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she commented.

"I'm thinking too hard," he muttered. "Maybe we should try it the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

"I need to be distracted a bit, then it might work," he clarified, as he walked back over to her, carefully trying to sense any alarm in her.

"Distracted?" she asked. "You mean…"

"Yeah," he said. "You'll be the distraction."

"And how will I know when it works? Will it be easy to tell? What exactly are you doing?"

"It'll be very easy to tell. I'm opening the emotional link to work both ways. As it works now, it is only open one way, but that doesn't mean the other way didn't strengthen as well. It might, in fact, be a little overwhelming and very strange when it happens, but just try to keep it separate in your head. If you stay analytical, it should be easy enough for you to sort out… I think. Maybe."

Her eyes widened. "I'll be _feeling_ you?"

"You wanted insight, didn't you? You'll never get a greater insight than that."

"You've been able to do this all this time?" she incredulously asked.

"Yeah. Don't look at me like that. I wasn't going to just _do_ it for no reason."

"Could you have closed the other 'link' too?" she demanded.

"No. Trust me, if that had been an option, I would have done it weeks ago. Before any of this mess."

She was pouting and scowling at him. "Fine," she muttered. "I suppose I couldn't expect you to tell me."

"I didn't know you'd care to know…" He shrugged. "But could we stop talking now? As you said, you're not getting any younger…"

"Ha ha." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Well, isn't that an invitation if I ever saw one…"

She quickly retracted the tongue and glanced nervously at him.

He shook his head. You wouldn't know that this girl had half of Hogwarts snogging her at will. He stepped closer to her, purposely crowding her and forcing her to step back until she reached the wall. She squeaked in surprise when she did and he raised an eyebrow.

"_Not_ scared," she said again. "If you claim that I am, I _will_ knee you."

No, he supposed scared was too strong a word. But she was definitely nervous. He didn't care to point it out and risk receiving a knee to his groin for his troubles, though. And he honestly couldn't decide whether he was offended or amused. "Not saying anything," he replied. "Just wondering why you're trying to crawl through the wall."

She immediately straightened, shrinking back a little when she came up uncomfortably close to him. "It's just strange," she said rather defensively. "You can't expect me to be comfortable with it."

No, she wasn't comfortable. It didn't stop him from wanting this kiss more than anything else, though. "Do you want to call it off?" he asked, wincing slightly.

"No! How many times do I have to say it?" She drew herself up, angrily glaring at him. "Don't think you can just bully me into mmpf—"

She talked too much. She always had. Besides, catching her off guard was better.

He kissed her.

And this time, she let him.

He wasn't completely prepared for the jolt of raw desire that went through him as her lips softened under his. He knew it wasn't mutual, but it didn't detract much from the feeling. Her hands had come up to rest on his arms, but she wasn't pushing him away. She wasn't rejecting him. When he sought to deepen the kiss, she yielded.

She was so soft and pliant. No, she didn't feel any great passion right now, but she wasn't repulsed, either. He could live with that. It was just a kiss. As long as she didn't really mind, he wasn't hurting anyone and it meant more to him to have this than he'd like to admit.

He tried to open the link again. For her to know how this felt… Yes, he wanted it. Even if it meant that she saw how pathetic he was in his need. Hell, she would have noticed _that_ a long time ago if she hadn't been so blinded by who she thought he was.

Suddenly it worked. The barrier disappeared and Hermione broke the kiss with a gasp, her eyes widening as she suddenly felt everything at once.

Draco was a bit disappointed that the kiss had to end so soon, but he accepted it. She had done her part. She had allowed him to kiss her like he wanted to without pushing him away or in any other way ruining it for him. Perhaps she hadn't really enjoyed it, but he was sure she'd done her best. Now he just looked at her, well aware that she could all but read his thoughts, and quietly praying that she wouldn't use it to ridicule him. He didn't remember the last time he had really shared his deeper emotions with anyone; he couldn't bear it if she were to use it against him.

She gave a small shaky smile. "Now who's scared?" she asked in a quiet voice completely devoid of derision.

Relief flooded him when he realized that she wasn't going to mock him. She must feel how much he wanted her, how kissing her made him feel… and she wasn't going to use it against him.

Her eyes were dazed and heavy-lidded and her lips were moist and swollen.

He desperately wanted to kiss her again.

He forced himself not to.

Then she kissed him.

* * *

**-gasp- That Kitty sure is ebil... :P**

**"You'll get someone else to wear it," she said as she reached out her arm.**

**"Yes," he said, unable to look her in the eye as he spoke the lie. Instead he focused on her wrist and reached for it.**

**She snatched it back. "Do you always feel guilty when you lie?" she asked, tilting her head.**


	49. Chapter 49

**It's Draco's 28th birthday today. Had to release something for my favorite boy's birthday!**

**Oh, and as far as what's currently going on in the fic at this point... In all the reviews on all the sites I post, _one_ person presented the right theory. -sniggers- But what can I say? Everything happens for a reason...**

* * *

Draco's eyes widened and his brain stopped functioning as he couldn't process this new development. Granger didn't willingly kiss _him_. It was unheard of! And wonderful. He had never felt such intense pleasure rush over him so fast. Her lips weren't just softly giving way, they were moving against his, caressing and branding him. He pulled her closer, needing to feel her close to him. She followed, her arms coming up around his neck, her body molding itself to his.

_Is this real?_

Wasting no more time, he tightened his grip with one arm around her waist, letting the other hand bury itself in her hair, as he deepened the kiss, pushing the boundaries, tempting fate.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her response was beyond anything he could have imagined.

He felt it. The blinding light that was their combined passion. It was there. He had never thought he'd feel it again, but it was there, more powerful than ever. She _wanted_ this. He didn't understand why or how, but somehow something just changed.

He decided not to think too much about it but just enjoy this unsuspected turn of events.

She whimpered against his lips, it was a sound born of need and frustration. She had to strain to reach him and she didn't like it. He gently maneuvered her the one baby-step it took for her back to hit the wall again, and then lifted her up so they were eye level. Now she was more comfortable. She eagerly wrapped her legs around him, making him moan softly at the mere thought of… No. Just a kiss, he'd said. It would probably kill him, but it had to end there. He had promised not to try anything. At least he'd managed to keep the bed out of this.

She was moving her body against him. He knew she couldn't help it, that she needed the small relief it gave, but it was driving him insane. He tried to steady her hip on another moan, but she just took his hand and placed it on her breast and continued moving against him.

_'No groping.'_

He tried to remove the hand from her tempting soft flesh, but she wouldn't have it. He couldn't take much more of this. It felt so good, he never wanted to stop, but he knew he had to. Things were rapidly spinning out of control and in a few minutes' time… he wouldn't be able to control himself anymore. There was nothing he wanted more than her and it seemed like he'd have to be the one to stop this from proceeding. It was so ironic that he'd laugh if he hadn't been so busy trying to memorize every detail about her lips.

She moved against him again and he knew he had to stop her _now_.

"Granger…" The name was nothing more than a gasp as she moved once again. Did she even have any idea? He looked into her eyes. Oh, yes, she did. And she liked it. This wasn't fair; he burned to take it further, but what if she regretted it later and blamed him for making false promises? He wanted her, but not like that. Not when she most likely wouldn't want to acknowledge that anything had happened between them once her hormones cooled down. "Granger," he said again. "We have to stop now."

"Why?" she asked in a throaty voice. Her hands travelled down and began slowly pulling his shirt from his trousers.

"No, please don't," he murmured, steadying her hands and stepping back, letting her slide down his body. The little witch deliberately slid down slower and closer to him than she had to. He had to close his eyes and pray for fortitude. "We're going too far," he whispered once he trusted his voice again. "It was only supposed to be a kiss."

"What if I don't mind?" she asked with a sultry look.

He almost moaned again. "Then come back tomorrow and we'll do anything you want."

"But not tonight?" She pouted at him. Merlin, how he wanted to just nibble that lower lip of hers.

"No," he choked, cursing himself for being ten kinds of fool.

Reluctantly, he stepped back from her before he forgot himself. He needed more than a step to be between them. He staggered to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, cradling his head in his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this worked up and he desperately wanted release. Telling himself that he couldn't have it was extremely hard. He hoped she would appreciate it when she regained her senses.

"Do you understand me better now?" he finally asked in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm not sure…" she murmured. "This is all rather confusing. Too many impressions all at once."

"Whenever you're ready… just… just come here and I'll take it off you."

The realization that he'd lose this feeling that was purely _her_ in a matter of minutes, or maybe even seconds, hit and with it came a sharp pain that for a second completely overrode his need.

He would never feel her again.

She would never spend time in his room again.

She would never bother to spend her time nagging at him again.

If he had to be completely honest with himself, there would never really be any reason for her to as much to say 'hi' to him again.

Not unless she really did suddenly want this and came back the next night… He desperately hoped she would, but he rather knew she'd come to her senses before then. He had no idea what had happened just now, but he knew it wouldn't last. He knew that even though she might want him right now, she didn't care about him on any level that mattered. He would have sensed it sometime during this last month if she did. Once she came to her senses, she'd feel guilty for physically wanting someone other than Theo, and she'd probably threaten Draco to keep his silence.

The funny thing was that he would never dream of telling Theo. True, Theo had said she would never want him and he could prove him wrong, but… he didn't want to hurt Hermione. He actually rather wanted to see her happy. She'd proven to be so much more than just some stuck-up know-it-all during these past four weeks, and he just couldn't ruin her relationship to the one boy she actually seemed interested in. Besides, if he did, she'd _really_ hate him and, even though it hardly mattered, he didn't want that.

Yes, she'd been kissed by a lot of boys lately, but… it was all very circumstantial. Draco hadn't been lying yesterday when he'd told her he understood that. The Weasel had wanted her for ages, so of course he'd be making a move. Blaise had just been proving a point and, besides, with him she had seemed more confused than anything. Theo made her feel all warm and tingly, with him it was something real. And Draco himself… well, he was as pathetic as Weasley, it seemed; making moves on her and hoping that she might open her eyes and _see_ him. The problem was… she did see him, didn't she? And she didn't like what she saw all that much.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sounding even more confused. "Why are you… sad?"

"It's nothing," he said, his voice sounding hollow even to himself. "Just come here and give me your wrist. It's everything you've been looking forward to, isn't it? Finally you'll be free of me." He couldn't help but feel bitter. Why did it have to be _her_? Why couldn't he feel this way about Pansy instead?

"Malfoy?"

"No, Granger. I don't want to go there. You kissed me. It was nice. Better than nice. I don't have to tell you because, as promised, you felt exactly how I felt. You truly earned your freedom."

"You also promised me understanding! And I _don't_ understand. I mean, yes, I understand that you're for some warped reason attracted to me, but I do not understand why you're suddenly acting so different from just a week ago." Her thwarted lust and his lack of cooperation were making her irritable.

He swallowed. He couldn't let her know the whole truth, but he had to give her something. "It's nothing. It just becomes rather addictive to have this bond. Comforting, really. One never feels alone, you know? I'll miss it."

"The Great Draco Malfoy gets lonely?" she mocked, obviously not feeling very gracious.

Draco scowled at her. "Everyone does. Even you, Granger. I've felt it."

She shrugged. "I can't help it if human emotions in you still surprise me."

"Maybe it should stop surprising you," he said more sharply than he'd intended. She didn't have to take her temper out on him when he was trying to do the right thing. He was frustrated too! "I _am_ human through and through. A smart girl like you should have seen that a long time ago!"

"And what else should I have seen? _That_ is what I want to know!"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Are we done yet?"

"Oh, we're doing _that_ again. Ask you one question you don't like and you're dismissing me!"

"What do you expect? You're inside my feelings and still you poke fun at my humanity. I thought you had more class than that."

She was silent for a few seconds. "I'm sorry," she then quietly said. "These… feelings… they affect me. I mean, right now I can feel both yours and mine, and I don't really know which are yours and which are mine. I feel your annoyance and I have to remind myself that it's not my own. Do I affect you like this as well?"

He shrugged, a little mollified by her admission. "Yeah, I guess. A bit. But one gets better at separating the feelings with practice."

She walked closer to him. "I think I'm ready for you to take it off now."

He nodded, unable to voice a response.

_Please… don't leave me._

He was really glad she couldn't read minds; he didn't know where that thought had come from. Unfortunately, he found it much harder to hide the pain that was rapidly increasing as taking the bracelet off seemed more and more inevitable. He felt like he should do or say something to make her keep it on, even though he knew it was perfectly useless. It was maddening.

"You'll get someone else to wear it," she said as she reached out her arm.

"Yes," he said, unable to look her in the eye as he spoke the lie. Instead he focused on her wrist and reached for it.

She snatched it back. "Do you always feel guilty when you lie?" she asked, tilting her head.

_Damn_. "I just don't see any point in arguing with you. No one else will want to wear it, I told you that."

"You're lying again."

He was. Wearing the bracelet would most likely mean marrying millions of galleons. Quite a few girls wouldn't mind. "What do you want me to say, Granger?" he asked.

"Would the truth hurt?"

_Yes._ "The bracelet is a dangerous toy," he carefully said. "I'm not playing with it again."

"Because it makes you addicted?" she softly inquired.

"Yes," he whispered. "You don't know what it's like, Granger. The void when it's gone…"

"And the kissing doesn't make up for it?"

He swallowed and shrugged. "Maybe." _Yes_. If she'd agree to wear it, he'd risk facing the void of loneliness any day. It was just putting it on someone new that put him off. He'd do anything to have her kiss him like she had been just before.

"I want to do it again!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"Huh?" he lamely said. _Please, no. It's so hard to turn you down…_

She went over to him and knelt between his knees. "I want to kiss again."

"No, Granger—" He was confused and almost desperate for the torment to stop. Why was she suddenly so aggressively wanting to kiss him? Just before he had to beg and bribe her for even one short unreciprocated kiss, and now she didn't seem to want to end it.

"Just a kiss…" she whispered and reached up, putting a hand on his shoulder, slanting her lips over his. He lifted a hand and burrowed it in her hair once again, cradling her neck, pulling her closer.

_My sweet, well-meaning, cruel little tease._

He was aching to pull her up into his lap, to lose himself completely in the kiss, to make her forget that she had ever wanted anyone else… He couldn't say no, he wanted it too much, but it was just another taste of what he couldn't have.

She broke the kiss and frowned at him. "Why are you feeling sad _now_?"

"It's nothing."

"_Malfoy_!"

He groaned. "Stop playing with me, Granger! You know how much I want this. Do you get off on knowing just how pathetic I am being attracted to the most unlikely witch at this school? Is that why you suddenly want this?"

"Are you answering me or scolding me?"

"Did you want the bracelet off now?" he ground out instead of replying.

She scowled at him. "No, I think not."

She _knew_ this was hard for him, yet she stubbornly refused to cooperate. He didn't know whether to shake her or to kiss her again.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Hermione grabbed a hold of the edges of her blouse and pulled it off over her head, leaving Draco to stare at an awful lot of skin. He closed his eyes, afraid that the vision was burned in his mind forever. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked in the most annoyed voice he could muster.

She laughed. It was low and teasing and gave him gooseflesh from anticipation. _Damn her for doing this._

"I know you want me," she throatily said. "I can feel it. I'm just getting rid of your nonsensical objections."

"Don't think I haven't seen it before," he said, edging a bit backwards on the bed, away from temptation.

"Oh, you haven't seen me…" she murmured.

He smiled sardonically. "I haven't? Does that mean you don't have a star-shaped birthmark on your left hip?"

She stared at him, surprise momentarily overriding her determination. It would be comical if he wasn't kicking himself for letting her know.

"How do you know?" she asked.

Well, if he was in for a sickle… "I thought that was obvious – I've seen you naked before." His smirk was not entirely acting – after all, the look on her face _was_ quite priceless.

* * *

**Something to tide you over (or whatever it does) the next week or so:  
**

**"What is it?" she asked, concern flickering in her. "What's wrong?"**

**"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You have to believe that I didn't know. You _have_ to." **

**"Didn't know what? You're not making any sense again," she quietly said, touching his cheek.**


	50. Chapter 50

**Heh. If you wonder what Draco is alluding to, perhaps you want to take a glance at a certain conversation in chapter 9. **

**I've had a cold for the past week. It seems to be gone now, though. But a Kitty can't work with snot for brains.**

* * *

Hermione slowly shook her head, staring incredulously at Draco. He could almost feel her mind working; he didn't need a bond for that. "Someone must have told you. Was it V—" She bit her lip before she could finish the sentence.

"Was it who?" he asked in a deadly calm voice, willing her to give him a girl's name.

She shook her head. "No, he wouldn't have told you."

"_He_? _He_ who?" He couldn't believe how important it was for him to know so he could strangle the guy for touching the girl he wanted for himself.

"Are you jealous?" she innocently asked. "Tell me how you know about my birthmark and I might let you know."

"I _told_ you… I've seen you."

"When? Where? How?"

"Fourth year. Third floor bathroom. There's a hole in the wall concealed behind one of the trophies in the Trophy Room. Gives a really good view."

"You _spied_ on me?"

"Oh, not just you. A whole lot of girls. And I wasn't the only one doing it either."

"So _others_ have seen me naked too?"

"I doubt it. You didn't usually use that bath, did you? I'd been doing it for months and never saw you before. Your turn."

"So you were alone?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Yeah. And only saw you that one time."

"Yet you remember my birthmark." He could feel her skepticism radiating off her.

He shrugged, smiling a bit sheepishly. "It made an impression to suddenly find that I was looking at Potter's little Mu—ggleborn friend in the nude, didn't it? Scared the hell out of me to be frank."

"Oh, my! You sure know how to make a girl feel beautiful!" she drily commented.

He shrugged. The reason it had scared the hell out of him was because he'd felt an attraction to her in the seconds before he realized who she was. He'd spent ages punishing himself for the transgression. Eventually, he'd been able to remind himself that she was only to be despised, but he'd never dared go back to the Trophy Room after that. "Now tell me… who else has seen you naked?" he asked, changing the subject back to what really interested him. If it were more than one, he might have to go on a murdering rampage, possibly enlisting Blaise to help him find the most inventive ways.

"You _are_ jealous!" She looked stunned.

"I would just like to know how often you seduce blokes," he bitterly replied, hating that she was right and that he had no right to be jealous. "You know, to see _how_ idiotic it was of me to hold back so you wouldn't end up regretting it later."

Her lips thinned in annoyance. "I'd say fairly idiotic," she said. "Especially considering that I didn't want you to."

"Did you sleep with this '_V'_?"

"Did you want to be the first?" she taunted crawling up his length on the bed. "Trust me, first times aren't all that… or so they say."

He had never really thought about it; he had never thought he'd be in a position where thinking about it would yield any results. He guessed he'd never even considered that she wouldn't be a virgin. She had never seemed to be serious about anyone, and he'd just never thought she'd take things like this lightly. She was far too… sensible… for that. Then again, he'd never thought she would come at him with such determination, either.

Right now, she was pretty much treating him like a toy boy, and he couldn't figure out whether it was a good or a bad thing. He wanted to do this, he really did, except… she was acting so different, so purposeful, in a way that seemed alien to him. Maybe he should just shut up and enjoy what was given freely, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"Stop that," she purred in his ear. She was on all fours, straddling his hip and just to be near her felt so… She nipped at his earlobe and he forgot what he was thinking. "You can't hide it from me," she whispered. "You want me. It feels so good… Why not just give in?"

He yanked her down and rolled her over, covering her mouth with his. He wanted to do this so badly, he'd wanted it every minute of every hour of every day for weeks now. He'd never thought he'd have it – he'd never thought he'd have _her_. He probably still didn't have it, not really. But if she wanted to share this with him, who was he to decline?

Heat flared and consumed. Hermione's skin was warm to the touch and smooth, so smooth. He couldn't get enough. He felt her open his shirt and he drew back a little to allow her better room. "I want you so much…" It was barely more than a pained whisper.

"I know," she purred with a smile, sliding the last button free. "I want you too."

To hear her say that she wanted him was enough to make him feel euphoric. She would be his. She wouldn't regret it. He'd make sure that she'd get everything she wanted from him, and he wouldn't demand anything she couldn't give. Surely she wouldn't regret it then?

She pushed the cloth to the side and then stopped, looking at the scar near his collarbone.

"I told you it was nothing special," he murmured, feeling strangely exposed.

She shook her head. "But it is." She lifted her head and pressed a kiss to it.

He shivered. Just that small gesture… It made him want to do the same for her again a thousand times over. He smiled at the absurdity. The smile quickly faded, though, as she began tracing the scar with her tongue. This witch was dangerous.

She smiled. "I never knew you reacted so strongly to everything."

He grunted some reply and then kissed her again. He needed her so badly. He couldn't think, couldn't do anything but kiss her and touch her. He pushed the strap of her bra to the side as he was kissing down her neck, wondering if it bothered her that he was going so fast but he just couldn't stop. He _needed_ her.

She whimpered in answer to the need. He didn't know if it was his or hers anymore… it was _theirs_. It was this great pulsing force that would settle for nothing less than complete surrender. He was willing to give it; he was willing to give his soul for this.

"Draco…" she whispered, a plea in her eyes.

He knew what she needed. She needed the same as he did – release. Soon, they would have it.

He gently shushed her, offering her slow caresses of his hands and lips. Soon… but why was something nagging at the back of his mind? Why was he hesitating? Something made him draw back and look at her.

He looked into her eyes. They were almost pained, mirroring his own need. His need. The need she had never seemed to reciprocate before.

_'These… feelings… they affect me. I mean, right now I can feel both yours and mine, and I don't really know which are yours and which are mine.'_

The realization hit him like a Bludger, and he felt hard-pressed to breathe. Every time she had reacted with need it had directly mirrored his own feelings. She couldn't separate them; she couldn't say no because the bracelet made her think that she didn't want to.

_Maybe she can say no and she does want to… Maybe you're just afraid._

No, he knew it with every fiber of his being. She _didn't_ want this. She only thought she did because his desire to kiss and touch and possess her was so all-consuming that she couldn't tell that it wasn't her own. She thought she liked his touch, because he loved touching her. He'd known that the bond affected her, of course, but he just hadn't considered that it would completely override anything that she herself felt.

He felt a wave of nausea as he realized that everything that had happened today had not been real. It had been nothing but a fantasy. _His_ fantasy. She had almost been a victim to this damn bracelet and its magic. This wasn't how he wanted her. He had been about to _rape_ her for crying out loud. None of them would have known, but that was really the only way he could describe it. This was so much worse than her being a little tipsy. At least then she had had _some_ say in the matter.

The implications of everything he had allowed to happen, not to mention what he almost allowed to happen, had him shivering with self-disgust and… heartbreak. For a while, he'd actually believed that she had enjoyed kissing him. He'd believed that she might not care about him, but at least he could make her feel _something_, a strong physical desire that might one day turn into… something. Now that was gone too.

"What is it?" she asked, concern flickering in her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You have to believe that I didn't know. You _have_ to."

"Didn't know what? You're not making any sense again," she quietly said, touching his cheek.

He closed his eyes, not knowing how to say this. "I-I wouldn't have touched you and taken advantage of you like this if I had known," he stammered. "I stopped as soon as I found out, I swear. I know that you probably would have rather never had my hands on you, but… I honestly thought you wanted this. It was my mistake for not seeing it sooner, but please… don't think I did it on purpose."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, her patience sorely tested and worry taking over. Worry about him no doubt. It made something twist inside of him.

He lowered his eyes, just to realize it was better to avert them altogether and moved away from her. "It's going to sound strange," he muttered. "But you don't really want this. It's me, I want it. And the bracelet… I don't know if the feeling is just too strong to handle when you aren't used to it or if it really is designed by someone who thought it fine to turn your wife into some sort of sex slave." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. The disappointment was crushing him and he cursed his ancestors for not preparing him better. There _had_ been references to sex with the emotional link open, yes, but it had just said it had been a fantastic experience… not that it was a way to get an unwilling witch into bed. "We can't do this, Hermione. It has to stop. I'm sorry I took it this far."

"You're dumb if you really believe that," Hermione said, sitting up. She was angry and hurt at what she seemed to think was rejection. "I _know_ what I want. But it's becoming rather clear that _you_ don't really want this. Why don't you just show some courage for once and admit it!"

"I can prove it!" he roughly said.

She crossed her arms. "Then please do. I'm waiting."

He swiftly bent to steal another very chaste kiss from her. It would be the last. "Just remember that I didn't know and that I did stop before it went too far," he whispered.

And then, knowing she would resist him taking off the bracelet, he yanked off his ring.

The slam of pure nothing was as devastating as it always was, but he knew she wouldn't feel it like that. She would just feel a return of her sanity. After steadying himself as well as he could after the loss of her emotions, he chanced a look over at her.

Her eyes were wide and she slowly moved a hand up before her mouth. But it was the look in her eyes that almost broke him – it was sheer and utter horror.

"No, Hermione," he begged, not sure what he was begging for. He supposed it was for her not to hate him.

She blinked a few times and then jerked and looked down at her own disheveled state, before jumping up and scrambling for her discarded piece of clothing.

"I didn't know," he tried again. "I didn't know it would work like that."

Having finally covered herself up, she held up her hand to cut him off. "_Don't_," she hissed. "You _knew_. You just couldn't go through with it. You're every bit as vile as I used to think."

"No!" He was rapidly panicking. "I swear, I _didn't_ know!"

"You know everything this thing does and then suddenly you don't know about _this_? Really smooth, Malfoy. You made it around just about every clause of the contract by now, didn't you? This was your grand finale, then? Completely humiliating me?"

He didn't have an answer. She didn't believe him. And saying that he thought she'd wanted it… it just sounded so stupid now. Of course she hadn't wanted any of it. She had never wanted it before, and then suddenly she threw himself at him, begging him and seducing him? He knew it was absurd. He had known something had been wrong all along – he had just wanted it too much to really stop and think. "I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his eyes. He'd tried to show her his pain, but she still didn't believe him. No need to let her see that he was actually close to tears now.

"You're _sorry_?" she yelled. "It's _not_ fine to just _take_ what you want when there's other _people_ involved! You're nothing but a spoiled little rich _child_."

This was too much for him to take. She was being unfair. He had held back, hadn't he? He had tried to do the right thing and ultimately he had _done_ the right thing without sullying her pristine self with more than a few kisses and touches. Nothing she couldn't easily forget if she tried, he was sure.

"I stopped!" he shouted back. "I could have gotten a hell of a lot more from you with a hell of a lot less effort than this, but I _stopped_. Why can't you just believe me?"

She took one big step towards him and then slapped him with all her might. He saw it coming but didn't stop her. If it made her feel better, then, by all means, she could pummel him to a bloody pulp. It wouldn't make any difference to how he felt. He was quite surprised that she didn't try to hex him. If he had still been wearing the ring, she wouldn't have been able to, but as it was, she could cause him any kind of pain without any repercussions. But then again… he couldn't even imagine her causing greater pain to him.

She believed him nothing but a weak would-be rapist and nothing she could do to him would ever top how that felt.

"You're despicable!" she spat, and then she turned on her heel and left the room.

Draco was left with a much bigger void in both heart and soul than ever before.

It took him several minutes to even remember that he hadn't actually removed her bracelet for her yet. The irony made him laugh. It was a strange and humorless sound.

* * *

**Really, did you all think it would be that easy?  
**

**He caught Blaise glancing across the hall where Tracey had just entered holding hands with her new beau. "You still going to do nothing?"**

**Blaise had turned his back on the couple and now he shrugged. "She doesn't need me to do anything, does she? Besides, I have a date today."**

**Draco blinked. A _date_? So soon? How could people move so fast from being head over heels to just being with someone else? He didn't understand. "What about Tracey?" he asked, because he couldn't stop himself.**


	51. Chapter 51

**Not in the mood for A/Ns. Hardly in the mood for updates. **

**Hugh Jackman is yummy in Van Helsing, don't you agree? I think it's the only reason to even watch that movie. My boyfriend doesn't mind my drooling as he at least _gets_ to watch it.**

**I have to pee.**

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She couldn't even get comfortable when she was on the bed. Instead she sat huddled together on the floor at the foot of her bed and tried very hard not to panic. Crookshanks was offering very little consolation, having claimed the bed for himself since it wasn't in use anyway.

_Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no!_

It was as coherent as she had been able to be for the past hour. She couldn't think, couldn't _allow_ herself to think. She took a deep breath and tried again.

_NO!_

Her stomach was churning and her heart was pounding, but she had to do this. She had to process this, to think about it, to come up with some sort of explanation, plan or solution.

She took another deep breath, settling her stomach somewhat.

What had happened in Malfoy's room had been… an accident. Yes, she could tell that much. He had been as shocked as she had been and she had known his remorse the instant it hit. She also knew that she had been damned lucky that he had had the presence of mind to realize the mistake before it went too far – even though a part of her still insisted on being angry that he had allowed anything to happen at all. She rather wished that he had realized what was happening much sooner, before she had suffered such humiliation, but, unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it now. What had happened had happened. She longed to blame him for the whole thing, and she _did_ blame him, he shouldn't have let it go that far, but _it had happened_. She had to deal with it.

A shudder went through her as she remembered how lost she had been in those feelings of pure need. Feelings that hadn't even really belonged to her. She had never acted with such abandon, never allowed her emotions to rule her most important decisions, not since… well, not for a few years, anyway. And then she was suddenly ruled by someone else's emotions and it was all gone, all her planning and careful deliberations about what would be the sensible way to go about this whole confusing dating problem. She couldn't just pretend that nothing had happened now. She couldn't pursue anything with Theo and keep silent about what had happened between her and one of his best friends. She simply couldn't lie to him about something like this. But if she told him that she'd had no choice in the matter, she would surely break a friendship apart, and much as she was angry at Malfoy right now, he probably didn't deserve to lose a friend over something that had been nothing but a horrible mistake.

Even though, perhaps, he did deserve to lose his friend for asking her to kiss him, knowing that Theo was actually interested in her as a person. But then again, didn't she also deserve to have Theo turn his back on her for _accepting_ to kiss Malfoy? She had done it for so little… to be free two days early. It wasn't even that important. At the time it had just seemed such a small price to pay, to allow him to kiss her, and then be able to go to Hogsmeade with her friends like she used to. But Theo wouldn't see it like that, would he? He'd only see her weakness, her loss of integrity, her selling herself to her slaver for what could only be termed crumbs.

What a mess.

Malfoy had told her that he wanted her and she had known it to be the truth. It boggled her mind and made her more than a little unsettled, but for some strange reason, he was attracted to _her_ and would have slept with her if she had been willing to go through with it on her own. She decided not to put too much stock in it, though. All his feelings had been very strong and impulsive, and she was probably just the flavor of the month, so to speak. Having felt how the bond worked, she could see how it could blind you into wanting things you wouldn't otherwise want. She just hoped that even after the lust disappeared, he would remember that she wasn't just a _Mudblood_ but also a human being. If he learned that from their little bet and refrained from tormenting others, then it would actually have been worth all the humiliations.

Not that he hadn't messed up everything else for her already… She sighed. She was just so tired of the Slytherins all seemingly playing cat and mouse with her. She was tired of being the weaker person to be bullied around and… _kissed_. She very much wished they would leave her alone to her studies and to mending her friendships.

She just wanted peace.

* * *

"My, my! Don't we look like shite today?" Blaise beamed at Draco as if he'd just been paying him a great compliment.

"Shut it!" Draco fought an urge to yawn as he made it into the middle of the entrance hall where several other students were also scattered about, waiting to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade. There were even a few aurors present in a group at the edge of the hall, talking. Draco eyed them warily, deciding that he would like to keep his distance from them. It wasn't that he'd actually done anything, but since that whole fiasco where he'd almost become a murderer, he just didn't trust these people to believe that he wouldn't do anything like it again. Ironically, the only person he truly trusted was Dumbledore himself.

"Didn't see you at breakfast," Blaise observed.

"Wasn't hungry," Draco clipped out. He really hadn't been. He had been spending the whole night fighting the urge to put the ring back on. He had promised her freedom and even though she probably hadn't realized it quite yet, he had already given it to her. It was the least he could do after what he'd done to her last night.

"Granger missed breakfast as well," Blaise smugly informed him, ignoring Draco's black mood as he always did these days. "Anything you'd like me to know about?"

"Yes, Blaise," he scathingly replied. "That is why I, as you so charmingly remarked, look like _shite_ – because Granger spent the night with me."

"It would explain the smudges under your eyes, but you're right. You'd probably be in a better mood. That is, unless…" He coughed, unsuccessfully masking what was definitely too much mirth.

"Unless what?" Draco snapped.

Blaise smirked. "Perhaps you got a little nervous?" His raised eyebrows said it all.

Draco was appalled at the suggestion. And offended. Blaise was actually suggesting that he couldn't..!? "No such thing!" he growled.

"Good for you!" Blaise exclaimed, beaming. "Now pray that it won't when you get that far…"

"I'm not getting that far."

"Of course y—"

"_No_, Blaise! I mean it!" Blaise looked stunned at the outburst and Draco sighed and continued, "Whatever I might have wanted… It doesn't matter anymore. It's done. It's over." He pronounced each statement clearly as much for himself as for Blaise. He felt the truth of it in his bones, yet after the night he'd had he couldn't summon any feeling but numbness.

"You really do mean it this time," Blaise quietly said.

"I always meant it."

"No… you didn't. You wanted her; it was obvious. I was just encouraging what you already wanted. What happened?"

Draco couldn't tell him. He just couldn't put this whole horrible and, yes, humiliating experience into words. He couldn't tell him how wrong he had been, how he'd gone too far, and how Hermione would never forgive him for almost taking her against her will. He had never wanted that, but it didn't matter. He would make it up to her the only way he knew how. "She bought her freedom from me," he tonelessly said. "I won't be bothering her anymore."

He expected the other boy to object and make a nuisance of himself digging for more information, but Blaise surprised him. "I'm sorry, mate," he said in a low voice. "You know I don't like her much, but I really had hoped it would work out for you."

Draco shrugged. "There was nothing there that would ever have worked." He caught Blaise glancing across the hall where Tracey had just entered holding hands with her new beau. "You're still going to do nothing?"

Blaise had turned his back on the couple and now shrugged. "She doesn't need me to do anything, does she? Besides, I have a date today."

Draco blinked. A _date_? So soon? How could people move so fast from being head over heels to just being with someone else? He didn't understand. "What about Tracey?" he asked, because he couldn't stop himself.

"She's not going to change her mind, Draco. I'm moving on. The best way to get over a girl is other girls. You'll discover that soon enough."

"But…" Draco glanced back at Tracey, who looked as if she didn't have a care in the world. He'd always sort of thought it would somehow work out once she realized that Blaise was serious about her. How could she realize this if he was 'moving on'? "You sure you gave it enough time? She could still come around."

"If she comes around, she knows where to find me. I'm not going anywhere for the next seven months."

This was all wrong. "You can't just give up!"

"But you can?"

"It's different! She never wanted me!"

"That's bull. I saw you kiss her. She wanted it."

Draco sighed. "She was drunk back then."

"So? Alcohol doesn't alter your personality, it just loosens it up a little. If she kissed you like that, she must have been attracted to you on some level."

"Yes, because _you_ certainly never snogged a girl while inebriated and lived to regret it the next day," Draco sarcastically shot back.

Blaise waved a dismissive hand. "I did. But Granger hadn't had _that_ much to drink. Her speech wasn't slurred at all and she'd even spent a good while sleeping it off. Didn't see her having any problems running straight for the door, either. I think that you both just thought that blaming the liquor would be the easiest thing to do."

Draco stared at Blaise. Could she really have wanted it back then? No, it didn't make any sense. Blaise was just, as usual, trying to plant ideas in his head. "It's moot," he said. "Whether she wanted it or not… it doesn't matter anymore."

"I suspected as much. Tracey wanted it, obviously. Now she doesn't. She's probably sleeping with _him_ now and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I used to be the only one she'd been with, but look at them," he gestured at Tracey, reaching up to kiss her boyfriend. "If they haven't shagged yet, it's just a matter of time. Very little time. Don't ask me to just stand by and watch. I can't. And I can't interfere either. Don't judge me for trying to get to a point where that's not keeping me awake at night."

Draco felt like a git for not understanding any of this sooner. "I'm sorry I was giving you a hard time about her," he softly said.

Blaise half-shrugged. "You were trying to look out for me, I suppose. But we were both idiots."

"Yeah…" There really wasn't much else to say.

"Buck up. If I were you, I would try and look less depressed."

"Why?"

"Granger just entered and it looks like she's coming over here. Want me to scare her off?"

Draco whipped around, surprised beyond reason that Hermione was in the same room without him knowing it. But how could he know? The place she had occupied was now nothing but a gaping hole inside of him. "You leave her alone," he said to Blaise without thinking. "Don't even look at her if she doesn't want you to or I swear I will maim you in a way so your next girlfriend won't have any use for you at all."

"Bitch," Blaise muttered at Draco, who pointedly ignored him.

* * *

Hermione was a nervous mess on the inside, but on the outside she held her head high and her strides were confident. She needed to get this over with. She needed to do this to be free. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she wouldn't really have to talk to him again after this if she didn't want to. So, pretending she wasn't cringing inside at the mere memory of what had happened only a few hours ago, she made a beeline for Draco.

Blast, he was with that intolerable Blaise Zabini. He probably knew everything, too! She glared at him.

Draco half-turned to Zabini. "Get lost," he curtly said. Zabini raised his eyebrows but complied. Somewhat. The hall was filling with students impatiently waiting for the security to clear and privacy was rapidly becoming limited. Zabini didn't find it necessary to go more than a few steps, barely out of earshot.

She turned her glare to Draco, who wasn't exactly looking at her. He looked just as uncomfortable, not to mention tired, as she felt. Good! She knew she should be ashamed that she so viciously wanted him to suffer for something that he'd hardly been able to control, but no matter how much she tried to tell herself to be fair, she found that she couldn't forgive him. Not yet.

"You promised to free me," she said, presenting her wrist to him.

He blinked, as if slightly taken aback. "I did free you," he said a bit hoarsely. "I mean, obviously you're still wearing it, but… I didn't put the ring back on, see?" He showed her his hands.

"That's nice," she said, quite unable to show him any gratitude or give him thanks. "But please take it off now."

"I need the ring," he muttered. "I didn't bring it. I didn't think to… Stupid." He looked around. "Seems there's still time. Wait here. I'll get it and remove it right away, I promise. Don't go anywhere."

He hurried off and Hermione found herself standing all alone in area predominantly inhabited by Slytherins. Oh, grand. But what else was new? Strangely, they seemed to mostly ignore her. Except Zabini. He was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. She bared her teeth at him, not in the mood for his offensive behavior. He raised his eyebrows, seemingly something he liked doing, and sauntered closer as if it had been an invitation.

"What now, Zabini?" she asked, not bothering to hide her hostility. "You in need of someone to call names again?"

He half-smirked. "No, Draco is the bitch of the day. Did you notice how rude he was? That boy needs some manners."

She snorted. "I'm sure you deserved it."

"But of course I did. Still, he could have been insulting me politely." He looked thoughtful again. "Look, Granger—" He was abruptly cut off as someone barged into him, nearly knocking him over.

Hermione blinked in confusion as Ginny's rather breathless person appeared before her. "There you are," she said to Hermione. "What on earth are you doing in _this_ section today of all days? Can't you be with your friends for once? We promise to be good, I swear. Ron might even be tolerable for once and drop that moody act of his."

Hermione didn't have time to reply before Blaise, having righted himself, interrupted. "Damn, Red. I didn't know you'd gone completely blind, but, then again, that explains a lot of things, doesn't it?"

* * *

**zomg who's who...or...  
**

**"Trust me, I cannot tell you how much I do _not_ want you under me or anywhere else."**

**"That's what you say…"**

**"Wanker."**

**"Harridan."**

**"Cunt."**

**He just smirked. "Slag."**


	52. Chapter 52

**Hey, quite a few notes for today, please take a minute to read them. :)**

**1) Probably the most important thing. You're getting this update (and another in a few days) early because I'm going away. I will be gone on holiday for the first three weeks of July and hence unable to update and when I get back, I probably need a couple of days to get things sorted. This break means nothing and I trust you all to be enjoying your own summer while I'm gone. ;)**

**2) I have gotten a lot of requests to read and comment on people's fics. I find this extremely flattering, but alas I do not have the time for this. I already have several fics lined up that I want to read that I have had to postpone for months, so this will not be possible. I'm sorry, but at least know that it's not personal in any of your cases.**

**3) For a while now I've been hearing that I'm not going to write the sequel to Silencio because I'm having a baby and stopping ficcing altogether. Funny that I should be the last to know, eh? Some people need to learn to read, it seems. They have misunderstood everything and are spreading these false rumors. I thought I'd managed to set everyone straight, but it appears not. Please stop these inane rumors and if you see them, squash them. Here is what I always said: I will stop posting to ffnet, but not certain other sites. I also never said I wouldn't write the Silencio sequel. What I DID say was that I wouldn't do it until Bracelet was finished. That is all.**

* * *

Ginny colored slightly, her back going stiff. "Nobody was talking to you, Zabini."

"No, you were just copping a feel. Really, there are better ways to get me under you than knocking me over."

Hermione was enthralled. She didn't even want to guess at what was going on, but it was extremely intriguing.

The color in Ginny's cheeks heightened as she angrily narrowed her eyes at Zabini. "Trust me, I cannot tell you how much I do _not_ want you under me or anywhere else."

"That's what you say…"

"Wanker."

"Harridan."

"Cunt."

He just smirked. "Slag."

Ginny actually blanched a little. "You wish," she snarled, lowering her voice.

"Then I would already have gotten my wish, wouldn't I?" Blaise's voice was also low and calm, but nevertheless clear enough that Hermione couldn't miss his meaning.

"Don't believe anything he says," Ginny hissed at her.

"Think Potter would believe me, then?" Blaise coolly studied Ginny, who was now looking as if she might panic.

"You wouldn't," she whispered.

"I might. Maybe you should consider being nicer to me, hm?"

The normally stoic Ginny was shaking slightly and lowering her eyes in defeat. Hermione gaped. She didn't think she'd ever seen Ginny back down from anyone or anything like this before.

Abruptly Ginny turned towards Hermione. "So, are you coming?" she asked in a falsely bright voice, avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"Um…" Hermione frowned slightly. "Yes, in a minute. Malfoy just needed to get something for me. I'll come over after."

"Good. Ok. See you then." Ginny fled.

There was an awkward pause, where Hermione was just staring at nothing, trying very hard to not think about this scene and what it had meant.

"It's not as bad as it seems," Blaise finally said, not seeming the least embarrassed. "She's never been unfaithful to your precious Potter if that's what you're worried about."

"Well, that's always something," Hermione muttered. "But how—no, never mind."

Blaise shrugged. "She's a firecracker. It just sort of happened, but once the lust was sated the bickering just became tiring. She's terrified that Potter will learn about her liaison with an evil Slytherin like me and end their relationship. It's too good not to use."

Hermione shook her head. "He'd think worse of being lied to. But… doesn't your kind consider her family blood traitors?"

At that Blaise outright grinned. "If I had that many scruples about who I slept with, I'd hardly ever have any fun!"

She scowled at him. "You know, for someone who's only seventeen years old, you sure sound like you've had a lot of _fun_."

"I'm eighteen."

"Oh, that makes _all_ the difference," she sarcastically replied.

He shrugged. "I always liked girls. It never harmed anyone."

"Sounds like you're harming Ginny."

He shook his head. "Not really. I haven't told him, have I?"

"But you're blackmailing her!"

"Only to behave a bit around me. I have nothing to gain from telling that git that I was there before he was."

"You'd better not do it, or so help me…"

"Do what?" Draco was back and frowning disapprovingly at Blaise.

"Agitating Potter is Draco's territory, not mine," Blaise said, not bothering to explain to Draco. "I really couldn't care less."

"Go away, Blaise, and leave her friends alone," Draco said, scowling.

"See?" Blaise said. "A total bitch!" But he still left.

Hermione's head was spinning. She recalled how upset Ginny had been when she had thought Hermione had lied about sleeping with Draco. She'd called her a poor friend and even a 'blemish on their house' at the time. Perhaps that was how she was feeling about herself? As if she had betrayed everything she was supposed to stand for and everyone that cared for her by having what seemed like a fairly short and meaningless fling? Hermione frowned again, trying to digest this. Of course, she didn't approve of this big secret, and she really hoped that Ginny would tell Harry soon, but it wasn't anyone else's place to tell him. Besides… Ginny and… _Zabini_? It boggled the mind that those two would have… and together! She wrinkled her nose, trying hard to block an '_ew_' from her thoughts.

"Sorry for the delay," Draco muttered, bringing her thoughts somewhat back to the present. He looked at the ring with a strange mix of longing and dread. Swallowing and his hands shaking, he finally put it on. Hermione didn't feel a difference, but he shuddered and closed his eyes. "You're not angry," he whispered.

She had forgotten to be angry. Mostly, she just wanted this over with. She put her wrist forward again.

He hesitated for just a second. "I really didn't mean to—"

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Just take it off."

She did her best to ignore his crestfallen expression as he reached for the bracelet.

"There you are, Miss Granger!"

They both jumped as if caught doing something they shouldn't, Draco rapidly dropping his hands and Hermione spinning around to greet Professor McGonagall in what she hoped wasn't a too forced manner.

Ultimately, Hermione had to go with McGonagall without having the bracelet removed, as some extra work was required of the head students and prefects today and they could hardly remove it in front of the professor without risking questions.

Draco stared at the ring he was wearing, knowing he should take it off again.

In the end, he wasn't strong enough to do what he ought. He left it on, justifying it by swearing to himself that he'd do everything he could to find her in Hogsmeade and truly free her.

It was just a few minutes' indulgence. An hour at the most. She wouldn't even notice.

* * *

Three hours later Draco was still wearing the ring. It wasn't that he was _really_ avoiding her, but she looked like she was actually having fun with her friends and he didn't want to interrupt for something this trivial. After all, thanks to him, it had been a while since she had truly enjoyed herself. He would free her as soon as she was alone; no need to intrude.

He sighed at his own lame reasoning and went into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. He still had errands to do.

He was surveying some quills that seemed to be priced for their opulent design rather than their usefulness. He didn't mind handsome things, but this was absurd. He was well aware that there was a time where he would have just bought them without a second thought, but as it was, his mother would soon have to sell her jewelry, and there was no reason to do that for _quills_.

Suddenly nothingness slammed into him with no warning, making him knock over several quills and stagger, grabbing a desperate hold of a table and fighting to regain his breath.

He was wearing the ring and she couldn't remove the bracelet on her own, yet she was gone. A chill went down his spine.

_No! She was fine just a second ago!_

Suddenly he was blindly running out the shop and towards the place where she'd last been. He tried to remind himself that it had been the same when she had been knocked unconscious; she had probably just… fainted. Girls could faint, right?

It didn't help his panic. Somehow he couldn't picture Hermione fainting. She was too stubborn to lose consciousness unless forcefully hit. He refused to even contemplate what else her mental absence could mean. She wasn't dead. She would be _fine_.

_Who would hurt her? She was with friends and there are Aurors everywhere!_

He reached the spot that he knew without a doubt had been the last place to see a conscious Hermione. It was on the road back to Hogwarts and there was nothing there. Nothing at all. It was still early—why had she been going back? And _where were her friends_? He tried reasoning that maybe they had been with her when she fainted and had carried her somewhere, but knowing that she hadn't fainted, he also knew that couldn't have been the case. And _why_ had she been going back _on her own_ so early?

He should never have let her out of his sight.

He looked around. She couldn't be back in Hogsmeade, because he just came from there, and it was unlikely she was hauled all the way from here to the castle. But in between there weren't a whole lot of places to take an unconscious body. He narrowed his eyes. There was a smattering of trees off to the side of the road. It being late November, they didn't really hide much, but it was all he had.

He hurried over to them and was both worried and gratified to see that there were more trees behind the first than he'd thought. And although he was hardly a naturalist, he thought it looked like someone had recently walked through here, breaking branches and upsetting undergrowth.

Of course, it was most likely wishful thinking.

He drew his wand and, as silently as possible, went deeper into what still hardly constituted a forest.

When he was far enough in that he could no longer see the road or Hogsmeade, he thought he saw movement ahead of him. Keeping himself hidden as best he could, he slowly inched forward until he could see. It was hardly a clearing, but more like one of the countless holes in the vegetation that this sorry excuse for a forest boasted, and in it… was Hermione lying perfectly still with a brown-haired man kneeling over her. He was no student playing a prank; Draco recognized him as one of the Aurors meant to protect them.

Caution was the better part of valor. Funny enough, Draco, who had always boasted plenty of the first and hardly any of the latter, found it impossible to do the sensible thing, which would be alerting someone. He couldn't see if Hermione was even breathing and it drove him to desperation. Noting that the man had put down his wand next to him, Draco jumped out and with a few flick of his wand sent the man against a tree, securely binding him. Strangely, the man didn't even seem inclined to fight back.

"What have you done to her, you bastard?" he hoarsely asked, not waiting for an answer but dropping to his knees next to her lifeless form.

"She's fine," the man said.

Draco didn't take his word for it, but checked for himself. Relief flooded him when he found that she was breathing and he carefully smoothed her hair back, checking if force had been used. He would repay it tenfold if it was the case.

The man wearily sighed. "It's a magical state."

"Why?" Draco asked without looking up, still checking for any bruises.

"Because she's wearing the bracelet… Draco."

Draco's head jerked up. "You know who I am. Good for you. Then you know who will make your life a living hell from now on."

"How long has she been wearing it?" the man asked, ignoring the threats. "That thing isn't a toy!"

At this Draco shot to his feet and turned on the man. "Who are you to speak to me like that?" he demanded.

"Your father, you insolent boy!"

Draco blinked and then laughed derisively. "What?"

"You think it was easy to spirit away an Auror and take on his identity? I have been trying to get to you for weeks!"

Draco stiffened at the haughty note in the other person's voice. "Father?"

This Auror hardly could have less in common with the Lucius Malfoy that Draco knew. He was… plain was the best word Draco could find to describe him. He was unremarkable in every way.

"Yes," Lucius said. "Could you perhaps release me now?"

"No!" Draco adopted a stance that he hoped showed that he would not budge. His feet spread slightly and his arms crossed over his chest. He couldn't help but glance at Hermione again, making sure she was still ok. He should get her off the ground; it was cold and damp. Her thick cloak offered some protection, but she would become ill if left there for long.

"Son, listen to me. Whatever you think you're feeling… it's not real. It does that to you after a while and it will pass after you stop wearing it. You shouldn't have used it on a Mudblood."

Draco felt anger surge through him, but he did his best to control it. "Oh, look who's giving me advice on what to do and what not to do. The man who put his own son in a position where he had to commit murder or be murdered. Not to mention that thanks to _you_, Mother was forced to betray either her son or her husband—I can assure you she's not happy, and she would have even more miserable had she chosen otherwise. Forgive me if I don't listen to what you have to say."

Lucius winced and briefly struggled against the magic that held him. Draco coldly watched. "I'm here because I want you to come with me," Lucius said. "I have arranged for amnesty for you and your mother. We can be a family again."

"Amnesty?" Draco felt his stomach churn. "A family? And what kind of family will that be, Father? One that follows You-Know-Who around like faithful little lapdogs, grateful for scraps and accepting any kicks?"

"It's the only chance we have!" Lucius hissed. "Do you want to see your own father back in Azkaban? The Order of the Phoenix might have some forgiveness for you and Narcissa, but they want me Kissed! Is that what you want too?"

Draco looked away. It was easy to pretend it was not the case when he was looking like a stranger, but this was his _father_. A man who had always doted on him and tried to give him the best of everything. "No, of course not," he quietly replied.

"We just have to stay in You-Know-Who's good graces. As long as he doesn't notice us and we don't anger him again, we'll be fine."

Draco sighed and with a quick motion released Lucius's bonds. It was his father for crying out loud; he wouldn't hurt him, and Draco himself wasn't likely to turn his own blood over to the authorities anyway.

"I'm glad you're seeing reason, Draco," Lucius was saying, collecting his wand. "First we need to get rid of the Mudblood."

The small hairs at the back of Draco's neck were standing on end and it had nothing to do with the cold November air. "You're not doing anything to or with her," he said, positioning himself between Hermione and his father. "If you try, I swear I'll see you in Azkaban myself."

"It's not _real_, Draco," his father said, using that patronizing tone he had known all his life.

"It doesn't matter. You're not touching her."

His father's lips tightened in obvious dismay. "Very well. I suppose we can just leave her here."

Draco shook his head again. "I'm not coming with you."

"You're being unreasonable."

"No, Father. _You_ are being unreasonable! You want to deny me my friends, my education, and my _freedom_ just because you want to play house? Maybe Mother will come back with you, I wouldn't blame her, but I'm staying."

"I can't _get_ to your mother," Lucius hissed.

"I'll tell her about the amnesty," Draco frostily replied. "Are we done now?"

"So you refuse?"

"Yes. I refuse."

Lucius sighed, suddenly looking very tired and defeated. "So be it. But you do know that we cannot have contact, I cannot help you financially, and you cannot get your personal inheritance until you're 25? I have made choices that cannot be undone and the Dark Lord will be furious that you refuse him."

Draco forced himself not to think of the implications. Not now. Not while Hermione was unconscious on the cold ground. "I know. I'll manage."

Lucius nodded. And then, just like that, he was gone.

Draco bent down and carefully picked Hermione up, not trusting himself not to float her into a tree in his current mental state. He didn't know how to lift her sleep, so it seemed she would be spending another night at the hospital wing because of him. No wonder she wanted to get rid of him so badly. He sighed. He would grant her wish as soon as she was safe again.

* * *

**For a long moment, he just looked at her, his eyes going from pleading to desolate as he realized she wouldn't budge. Then he abruptly stood, his face shuttered. "You're punishing me for this past month? So be it. I'll tell them. Not like I'd ever get my family back anyway." Before she could say anything else, he turned and left.**


	53. Chapter 53

**Pregnancy hormones are a joy. XD I think it could be worse, though. I don't throw fits and I don't cry at Kodak commercials. ;) And it's a boy, just found that out Tuesday. We already knew, though. He was too much of a brat to be a girl. No, I don't find inquiries intrusive. After all, I brought it up, and it's natural to be curious about these things, no? That's why people read each other's blogs and whatnot. Still, can hardly spam too much about it here and since I don't really respond to reviews anymore, it limits the feedback. :)**

**This update, which I promised in my last A/N, will be the last one before I go on holiday. I'll have time to read the first reviews, but the rest will be something for me to look forward to for when I get back. And yes, even though I had to stop the responding, I still DO read each and every one and I make note of both praise and criticism and form opinions about which points I agree and disagree with. So never doubt that I read your words and give some thought to them. :) I hope what I return to will be favorable, but only time will tell. ;)  
**

* * *

Hermione was fighting her way out of the darkness. As consciousness returned, nausea came with it. She tried to fight it down, but it was futile. The second she woke, she turned over the side of her bed and vomited, retching long after her stomach was empty.

She felt movement as Madam Pomfrey hurried to her aid, holding her hair back. "Goodness," she heard the woman say. "Seems like you were right on insisting on the bucket."

Who was she talking to? Hermione tried to lift her head again but was powerless to fight the retching that just wouldn't let up. Her eyes watered and her nose began running. It was damn uncomfortable and she didn't appreciate that someone seemed to be watching.

She felt movement on the other side as someone got up and left before coming back, dumping some paper towels in her lap.

"Why be sick from magical sleep, though?" he asked.

_Oh, God. Malfoy!_

Great, Malfoy had watched her vomit. What a splendid day this was turning out to be! And what had happened? Magical sleep? Was this another stupid Slytherin prank at her expense? As the retching stopped, she picked up one of the towels without bothering to thank him and cleaned her face as best she could.

Pomfrey shook her head and vanished the unsavory content of the bucket. "It could be any number of things, but a body doesn't like to be hexed into sleep unawares, so it's probably just the shock."

"I see," he muttered. "She's thirsty."

As Pomfrey went off to get her some water, Hermione realized she _was_ thirsty. But she was right there and could speak for herself! Having composed herself, she glared at Draco, who looked extremely weary.

"Don't worry, Granger," he quietly said. "I only kept it on to make sure you were ok. I'll remove the bracelet for you now."

She hadn't even given that a thought, but she held out her wrist and with a wince he reached out and easily took it off her. Pomfrey returned with the water and, looking very pale, Draco hurriedly slipped the bracelet into his pocket so she wouldn't notice.

"She's awake now," Madam Pomfrey said, directed at Draco. "Professor Dumbledore is going to want your explanation and her friends will want to come in and see her."

Draco averted his eyes. "Yes, of course. But might I just have a word with her first? I won't take long, I promise."

The elderly nurse shook her head. "Just a few minutes, then. She needs rest."

When she left, Hermione scowled at Draco again. "_She_ is right here."

"I know. I'm sorry. But you were out for hours and we just sort of…" His voice faltered. "Listen, I have to talk to you."

Damn right he did! "Why are _you_ in here but my friends aren't?" she asked with a frown.

"I didn't want to talk to anyone before I was sure you were ok, so they let me stay. After all, I found you."

_Found me where?_ She decided to cut right to the heart of the matter. "What happened to me?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. You don't remember anything at all?"

"No. I was going back to the castle, and then I woke up here."

"Why were you going back so early?"

"None of your business." She knew she was being rude but she was just still so _mad_. "What happened to me?"

He flinched at her rejection. "There was a… a Death Eater," he muttered.

Hermione sat up straight. "A Death Eater? Did they catch him?"

Draco ran his hands through his hair. "No, they… they didn't. I…" It was as if he didn't know quite how to tell her something.

"Why do you have something to explain to Dumbledore?" she asked, when he wasn't too forthcoming.

"Because…" He swallowed and looked her straight in the eye. "Because, like I said, I found you. I carried you back. They don't know what happened."

"But you know it was a Death Eater?"

He was clearly agitated. "It wasn't just a Death Eater," he finally admitted. "It was my father. He didn't go after you, it seems, you were just in his way and wearing the… the bracelet. He recognized it. And he didn't really hurt you. He just put you to sleep." He looked away as if withholding something. He probably was, since it had been his father.

"So you talked to him," she coolly deducted. "You had a leisurely chat with him before you let him go. After he somehow infiltrated the Order and got into Hogsmeade on our 'secret' Hogsmeade weekend."

He nodded, clearly collecting himself for a confrontation. "Yes."

"While I was knocked out—"

"Sleeping!"

"—and God knows what he intended to do with me."

"He didn't intend anything. You were just wearing the bracelet. I imagine he knew I would notice when he took you."

"And what did he want with you?"

He shrugged, leaning back and avoiding her eyes. "To come with him."

"Right. And then I'd have been free to go." She knew her sarcasm probably wasn't fair—after all, he _hadn't_ gone with his father—but it just rankled at her that she'd been attacked by his bloody Death Eater father and that he was acting as if it didn't mean anything.

"I would have made sure that you were and I _didn't_ go with him. I stayed. No harm was done."

"Where are you going with this?" There was something about how he was telling her about this that roused her suspicion.

"I was wondering…" He hesitated. "When we… When Dumbledore asks you, could you perhaps leave out the part where the Death Eater was my father?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"I was honest with you, and I know you want to do the right thing, but couldn't we keep just that part between us? I don't want… I don't want anyone else to know that Father was here and attacked a student. I don't want him to be in any more trouble than he already is."

"You're asking me to _protect_ your father? The man who attacked me and tried to take you back to Voldemort?"

He flinched again. "No, I'm asking you to do me a personal favor. Please. I won't ever ask anything else of you."

"After last night you're asking favors of me?" She was aware that her voice had risen, but she was just that incredulous.

He buried his hands in his hair, looking thoroughly vexed. "I'll pay you. I'll slave for you. I'll do whatever you want if you just… keep quiet about this."

"You would really ask me to lie for you and your Muggle-hating father in this?"

"You wouldn't really lie!" he objected. "If they ask you if you saw him, you say no. If they ask you if you know who he is… well, you only have my word for it anyway, don't you? And I'm a bit of a liar when it suits me, everybody knows that."

"He's evil. He doesn't deserve to be protected."

"He's my _father_." Draco shot up from the chair and began pacing. "He taught me how to play Quidditch, he taught me about life, he gave me the best of everything, and for as long as he could he tried to keep the Dark Lord's attention off me. He's not evil, Granger, he just doesn't think like you do."

"No," Hermione calmly responded. "He thinks it's fine to murder innocent people just because they weren't born to magical parents."

Draco sneered at her. The first sneer she could recall having seen in a while. "Father is _not_ a murderer. He told me he was actually a bit relieved when You-Know-Who first fell, but once you've got the mark, he never lets go. The only way out is death. Father is the head of a family; he chose to be alive instead of being a martyr. He does what he has to in order to survive."

Hermione leaned back. She disagreed, but she acknowledged that Draco would never think worse of his own father than he had to. "What about you?" she asked. "You chose not to go back. Where does that leave you?"

Draco sat heavily back down. "Well, as soon as I leave here, it pretty much leaves me fucked. I can either go hide somewhere for the rest of my short life or until You-Know-Who should fall, or I can try to have a life and be dead all the sooner for it."

"You really think he'll kill you?" Hermione asked, aghast. "You're just a boy who doesn't want to play his game!"

"I know he will. I refused his amnesty. I'm sort of hoping that your side will somehow defeat him first, though. I don't make a very good martyr."

The certainty that Voldemort would take his time to pursue and kill him seemed strange to Hermione. "But there's no reason for him to bother, is there?" An ugly suspicion hit her. "You don't have the Mark… do you?"

He sighed and rubbed his face. "Yeah, I do," he said in a flat voice, completely throwing her off guard. "It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I'm not sure if he cared whether I wanted it or not. Father had messed up, so he took it out on the son. Mother went ballistic, but there was nothing she could do. She cried for weeks."

"But I haven't seen…"

"I always wear long sleeves. No reason for people to hate me more than they have to." He swallowed. "Last night you almost saw. That probably would have cooled your blood, no?" He laughed bitterly and looked away. "Now you know, and I'm leaving you alone, I swear, but please… don't mention my father."

He looked back at her and his eyes were pleading with her to just do this one thing for him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She couldn't protect his madman of a father. And she couldn't process the fact that he had that foul brand on his arm.

He was quiet for a few seconds. "We're going to have to leave out the bracelet in this," he then said without much emotion. "Last I was here, Blaise made up a tale that we were dating and I had unknown to you performed a bonding spell to take on your injury. We should stick to that to explain me feeling and finding you, although you're free to 'finish' me when you tell them about it, and I'll be assuring them that I removed the bond again. If we tell the truth about the artifact, we might both be expelled."

"Of course." She could concede that much. It wasn't like the teachers would be spreading tales anyway.

"But you won't leave out my father's name?"

"No."

For a long moment, he just looked at her, his eyes going from pleading to desolate as he realized she wouldn't budge. Then he abruptly stood, his face shuttered. "You're punishing me for this past month? So be it. I'll tell them. Not like I'd ever get my family back anyway." Before she could say anything else, he turned and left.

* * *

Friends were a blessing, they really were, Hermione reminded herself. They really deserved this explanation they had been waiting patiently for for the last month. What did it matter that she was feeling so tired and would rather forget everything that had happened? She leaned back against the soft pillow of the sofa in their common room, relieved to have told the whole story. Well, most of it, anyway. She had left out certain details, such as the exact trade that had gotten her off the hook early or the fact that Draco had told her he bore the Mark. They just didn't need to know those parts.

She looked at her friends digesting what had been happening right under their noses. Ginny wasn't really looking at her. She hadn't been since Hermione had heard Zabini's revelations. Her embarrassment was on a level that Hermione found hard to comprehend, but then again, she hadn't tried walking in Ginny's shoes. Harry was looking angry and Ron was frowning; that was as could be expected. Now she'd have to spend time and energy she didn't have on convincing them not to go after Malfoy. Great.

"I should have known," Harry growled. "That slimy git. Of course he would jump on a chance to humiliate you, we knew that. We suspected he had something on you, but we thought it was blackmail, not an actual slave device."

"You didn't know," Ginny quietly soothed him. "I even noticed the bracelet and found it odd that Hermione would wear something so expensive so casually, but I didn't say anything."

"So, everything… It was just him pulling your strings and pushing our buttons?" Ron looked up at Hermione, the frown deepening, his eyes showing both relief and confusion.

"More or less. But it affected him as much as it did me, if not more. As I said, he couldn't keep it up, and in the end he ended up protecting me from others from his house."

"Of course he did!" Harry looked like he was hard pressed to suppress his fury. "He knew that if anything were to happen to you, he'd be done for. He was looking out for himself."

"It wasn't that bad, Harry. Most of the time he just wanted company. It's not that easy being him this year, you know." Understatement.

"You say that like I give a damn. He made his bed and now he has to lie in it."

"Oh, that's easy for you to say, isn't it? In fact, it's rather easy for all of us." Hermione was rapidly becoming annoyed.

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You are The Boy Who Lived, everyone has been grooming you to be a hero ever since you entered this world. Ron and Ginny have been raised 'blood traitors' by members of the Order. And me, I'm a Muggleborn. None of us ever had to pick a side, we were born into it. Well, it was the same for Draco, except he was raised on the _other_ side of the fence, and now he's been trying to jump it in spite of his upbringing and… circumstances, but nobody's giving him a break. His old friends have pretty much turned their backs on him, and none of the 'good' guys want anything to do with him because of what he used to be. The only ones that don't condemn him are Nott and Zabini and that's because they're pretty much trying to stay neutral in the war in spite of especially Zabini also being a bigoted prat."

There was a brief silence as Hermione fought to catch her breath. Then Ron broke it. "Everyone has a choice, Hermione. Nobody promised it would be an easy one to make."

"Malfoy didn't even really make it, even though you seem to want to give him credit for it," Harry coldly pointed out. "He was set a task, failed at it, and chose survival. He never said he wanted to fight for our side or make a stand against Voldemort and old prejudices. He never showed any remorse. He is just hiding behind the Order until the threat to his own person goes away."

"He's _trying_," Hermione hissed. "You don't make that kind of change overnight!"

"Why are you defending him?" Ginny glanced at her but then seemed to be addressing her knee. "He might not have been horrible all the time, but he _did_ do some pretty mean things."

"I'm not saying he's my new best friend or, well, a friend at all, but he deserves a chance, just like everybody else."

"In other words, we're not allowed to teach him a lesson," Ron drily concluded.

Hermione shook her head. "You don't have to. He already learned it."

To her own surprise, she really believed that he just might have.

* * *

**Preview? Um... would this be sufficiently compelling? XD**

**Blaise's jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, and his eyes were furious. "You're going too far, Draco," he said in a lethal voice. "I advise you to shut up."**

**Draco leaned back, gaining a strange sense of satisfaction from goading Blaise. "You started it," he felt it prudent to point out.**

**"And I'll finish it, too, if you don't shut it," Blaise growled.**


	54. Chapter 54

**Hola. I'm back. Miss me? ;) Thanks for all the wonderful review I received during my absence. I especially enjoyed the couple of novel-length ones. Yikes. They almost made me sorry that I don't have time to respond these days. XD And I did have a wonderful holiday, thank you. :)**

**As for questions about Kupo: 1) No, that won't be his actual name. XD and 2) He's due in November, so I'm not counting on him arriving before then. ;)  
**

**About this chapter: I know it's been AGES since the last update, but in the story... no time passed at all, really. It was just the day before that Draco and Hermione got close to crossing a certain line, and it was today they were in Hogsmeade with everything that entailed, including Hermione getting knocked out and Draco having to explain some things to Dumbledore. With me so far? ;) Right... Here we go!**

* * *

It was late. He should go to bed. He should do _something_. He didn't feel like it, though. Instead, Draco just sat alone in his common room and stared at nothing. This weekend would have to go down in history as the worst ever.

First, he had nearly violated the girl he cared about, losing any kind of progress he might have made, and making her hate him to a degree where he could only hope to even remotely repair it by completely staying away from her. He didn't want to stay away from her. He wanted to show her that he could be something more, something better, than what she thought him to be. But he'd seen it in her eyes—she wasn't going to believe him. She would never want him like he wanted her.

But today he had accepted her decision and had betrayed his own father, his own blood. He could have left the telling to her, of course, but she hadn't been conscious, she didn't know the details. In telling her the truth, he had been putting the decision in her hands, and she had made it. He had hoped that she might show him some mercy and allow the secret to stay between them, but why should she? She had no reason not to hate every Malfoy, no reason to care whether he'd ever get his family back.

His eyes burned. Family loyalty and honor was something drilled into him from since before he could walk, and today he had betrayed what was left of it. Even should Lucius ever be free, Draco would find no home with him after this. He was truly a traitor now. When he told his mother, she might leave him too, either to go live with her husband or in disgust at her son's treachery. He would be alone, without funds, and still pining for a girl who would have nothing to do with him.

He doubted that Hermione even suspected what kind of sacrifice he had made by respecting her wishes and being completely honest to Dumbledore about the whole encounter. To her it was all black and white, right and wrong. She had such strong principles. He doubted that she would ever sacrifice justice for love. He would. He knew that his father had done many reprehensible things, but Lucius Malfoy was more than the sum of those actions; he was a loving and indulgent father… who had just been betrayed by his one and only son.

Feeling the full force of his guilt, Draco clenched his jaw, willing himself not to give into the grief. He didn't care whether she realized it or not, if she would ever acknowledge it or not, but as far as he was concerned, he had just righted every wrong he had ever done to her. She might not care overly much about his family, but he did. Ruining everything like this was not something he'd just do for a girl he had a crush on. It was the last part of his penance. He would stay away from her, yes, but she couldn't expect him to sacrifice anything else. He owed her nothing. They were even.

He violently kicked out at the low table, sending it several feet away and buried his face in his hands. There was no way he could fool himself into thinking that she'd ever consider them even, no matter what he did. She didn't really hate him, he knew that, but that was more a case of her not finding him important enough to hate than anything else.

Hell, even if he _wanted_ to do more, he had nothing left to sacrifice. And now, there was a hole inside of him that he didn't know how to fill. Without her to wear the bracelet, he didn't know what to do. Knowing that he'd just denounced his own family only made the hole bigger. He was alone, he was lonely, and he was scared. Perhaps it _would_ just be better if the Dark Lord managed to get to him. At least then it would finally be over.

He more felt than heard someone enter and sit down. For several long moments he didn't look up or acknowledge the presence, but as the silence stretched, he figured he'd better see who was intruding on his grief without making themselves known.

He looked up. Blaise. Of course.

"How was your date?" he asked, striving for normal but instead achieving a depressing hoarse note.

Blaise shrugged, pretending he didn't notice anything amiss. "Not that good, actually. She's a nice enough girl, but when it came down to it, I just couldn't…" His voice faltered slightly.

Draco wasn't certain he wanted to know what Blaise couldn't do. "Give it time, mate. You can't rush it."

Blaise's mouth set in a grim line. "I couldn't even kiss her. I felt like I was cheating. Tracey always said that I would never be able to be faithful to one girl, and I felt like I'd prove her right and that she'd never ever trust me if I did it. I'm a fool, she already doesn't trust me and never will, but I just _couldn't do it_."

It was funny how different they were, Draco mused. He would never have gone on the date in the first place. "I don't think you're a fool," he said. "I would have thought you a greater fool if you had done it. Some things just aren't worth it."

"Well, it was a little bit worth it." Blaise smiled vaguely.

"What do you mean?"

"Ran into Tracey and her boyfriend. I was fully prepared to just be ignored, but the look on Tracey's face when she realized I wasn't alone… She was furious. She wasn't very good at hiding it, either. She wouldn't have been mad if she was indifferent, right? She might hate me and think me a bigot and a libertine, but she still feels something for me."

Draco wasn't sure. He didn't know a lot about these things. "I'm glad," he just said.

Blaise shot him a glance. "I heard about what happened with you today. Any chance that Granger was grateful that you saved her?"

Obviously Blaise didn't know the whole story. He probably never would unless Draco himself told him. Draco didn't plan on telling him right now, though, but merely shot him an answering look. There would be enough time to let Blaise know that he had betrayed his own family for… nothing he could explain.

Blaise sighed with exasperation. "She's pig-headed and ungrateful and a shrew. She's not even pretty. I don't understand your fascination with her."

This made Draco glare at him in indignation. "Sounds a lot like a description of Tracey to me."

"Granger doesn't hold a candle to Tracey."

"Oh, please. Tracey claimed she was in _love_ with you, and then she was off the first time you said something she didn't like. She didn't even care enough to stick around to actively make you pay for it and eventually forgive you. Not to mention that her looks are so bland that I forget she even exists when you don't remind me."

Blaise's jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, and his eyes were furious. "You're going too far, Draco," he said in a lethal voice. "I advise you to shut up."

Draco leaned back, gaining a strange sense of satisfaction from goading Blaise. "You started it," he felt it prudent to point out.

"And I'll finish it, too, if you don't shut it," Blaise growled. "You should be so lucky as to find someone half as good as Tracey that would actually _care_ for you."

Draco very much just wanted to find someone, anyone, who could make him feel like a certain indifferent Muggleborn did, someone who wouldn't reject him. "You're right," he simply said. "At least you had her and there's hope that you will again. That does count for a lot more than daydreams."

Blaise's countenance softened. "Just what are you dreaming about?" he prodded.

Draco shrugged. He had shared enough for today. He wasn't going to tell Blaise how simple his fantasies had been, how they'd mostly been just a kiss or a touch or a smile. He knew he couldn't actually _be_ with Hermione, so he'd never gone down that road, and he'd never dared letting himself consider what it would be like to make love to her. Not until last night. Last night would probably have been the best experience of his life if the fact that he'd been unwittingly forcing her had not made it the worst. Now, even knowing that she hadn't really been willing, he couldn't stop thinking about it, imagining different and far more pleasurable outcomes. It made him sick with himself, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"You know," Blaise observed, "there was a time you'd rant and rave if anything was on your mind. Less than a month ago."

Draco sighed and shook his head. "They were just annoyances. This is too personal."

"But you never rant and rave anymore."

"What?" Draco mocked. "You miss listening to it? Perhaps I just have more important things on my mind lately."

Blaise's lip quirked in a self-deprecating smirk. "We're both pathetic. We're probably the best catches in this wretched school and we pick the two girls that don't want us."

"Not to burst your bubble, but I'm fairly sure there's more than two girls that don't want us." _Like anyone with a brain._

Blaise shook his head dismissively. "The point is, more do than don't. So it _should_ be easier to pick a 'do' than a 'don't'."

"'Doesn't'."

"What?"

"A 'doesn't'."

Blaise narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "You're not taking me seriously."

"How would you get that idea?"

As Blaise glared, Draco couldn't keep his look of innocence in place and he smirked. Bickering was definitely better than over-sharing.

* * *

Hermione woke Sunday morning feeling as if she'd forgotten something. Mentally, she went through all of her homework, any promises she might have made to her friends, and anything else she could think of. There was nothing. Irritably, she fingered her wrist, just to find it bare. _The bracelet_. It was gone. Of course it was. And she was glad. He had finally taken it off her the day before and today she wouldn't have to run to the dungeons at odd hours, following his whim.

She could even shower at a decent time without being afraid of being summoned.

It was interesting how one could be grateful for tiny everyday things.

She made her way down to breakfast, not so much because she was hungry as because she was hoping to run into Theo. He had been keeping his distance during the last part of the bet and she got the feeling that maybe, in spite of his insinuations when she had kissed him to prove a point, he was mad at her. It couldn't be helped if he was, and, even if he wasn't, he would be as soon as she told him what had happened.

However, more important than all that was the fact that he was the Head Boy, and he and the Deputy Head Girl had been covering for her while she had been taking her little 'holiday' as someone's slave. She couldn't with a clear conscience allow that to go on any longer, now that she was fully free again. Not without giving up her position, and she _really_ didn't want to do that.

She spotted Theo just as he was leaving the Great Hall and called out to him, speeding up her step to catch up. He stopped, waiting for her, looking politely inquisitive. He really was rather hard to figure out. One day he was kissing her as if nothing else mattered, the next day—or, well, technically three days later—he was looking at her with polite detachment as if they barely had a passing relationship.

"Hermione," he said with a small nod, simply acknowledging her presence. Did he already know? Or, maybe, he just decided that she wasn't worth the trouble anymore…

"Theo," she muttered, wavering, before she forced her voice to be more firm and cheery. "If you're free, I'd like to talk about what you and Padma have been doing and where to take over."

He nodded. "Of course. But wouldn't it be easier to wait until Draco frees you?"

So, there were some things Theodore Nott didn't know. She found that strangely reassuring. "He already did," she said, pushing up her sleeve to demonstrate. "Yesterday."

Theo stared at the bared arm for a few seconds. "I see," he muttered, sounding very much as if he didn't see. "And he did this for no reason at all?"

Hermione couldn't help the blush that crept across her cheeks. "He may have had ulterior motives," she hedged, "but the result is still the same: I'm free and can resume my duties."

"Yes." Theo sounded distracted as if his mind were somewhere else entirely. It annoyed her. Why wasn't he happy for her? "Of course. Let's go to the office and straighten this out, then."

* * *

"Draco! I was looking for you!"

Draco winced. He wasn't feeling too well today and had kept to his room, but at some time during the afternoon hunger had become an issue and he had slipped out to rectify it. He had almost made it back to his room when _Theo_ of all people stopped him. For the past few days he'd been so successful in avoiding Theo that he hadn't even considered the possibility of running into him now. If he had, he would have stayed in his room.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, really not in the mood to pretend he wanted to talk to him.

"You released her." A statement of fact.

"Very perceptive of you, Theo. Now go celebrate with her." Draco began walking again.

"Why?" Theo asked, making Draco stop again.

"None of your business." He briefly wondered what Theo would make of it if he knew of the deal. He'd probably reach the right conclusion: that Draco was pathetic and that Hermione had just done what she had to to be free from him.

Theo took a few steps towards him. "I know you didn't like what I said to you and I'm sorry about that. I may have been a bit too harsh. But won't you tell me?"

Draco looked away. "No. Ask her. See if she will tell you."

Theo's lips tightened a little. "I would have during our meeting, but I had a feeling that it might strain things between us if I did. Things could hardly be more strained between you and me, though, so I hardly have anything to lose here."

Wasn't _that_ an understatement? "I'm not going to tell you. Just don't blame her for wanting to buy her freedom."

"As I suspected, then," Theo muttered. "That changes things."

"Nothing has changed," Draco harshly said. "Don't play with her. She's yours, same as she was three days ago, same as she was three _weeks_ ago. Whatever favor you think you're doing me—don't. Give her what she wants." Unable to stay near Theo for another second, Draco turned his back on him and blindly found his way back to his room.

* * *

**Draco doesn't seem to be doing so well, does he?**

**Again he hesitated.**

**"What happened?" Hermione's eyes went wide as she was imagining all kinds of horrors.**

**"Nothing. That is… Pansy moved into Draco's room. It seemed to calm him."**

**Hermione's mouth fell open. This was something she hadn't anticipated.**


	55. Chapter 55

**You know what's annoying? A/N's. ;)**

* * *

Everything was different because Hermione didn't have to wear the bracelet anymore, but of course, nobody knew that. They all acted as if every day were the same as before. They didn't know anything about the bet or the bracelet or the insane consequences stemming from this whole thing. All they knew was that she had been attacked during Hogsmeade weekend and yet again Draco Malfoy had been the one to extricate her. After that, as far as they were concerned, nothing had changed. Nobody really commented, seeing as they were getting used to the way of things, but for the first time Hermione noticed the glances and the subtle implications that even though they may not have believed the initial rumors Draco had spread, they thought there was something between them now.

It was preposterous, of course. Not to mention that it was none of anybody's business. The surprising thing, however, was the way everyone seemed to be… resigned. Even the Slytherins didn't bother to sneer at her anymore, but just ignored her existence. The funny thing was that nobody seemed to notice that even Draco kept his distance, ruining all their assumptions. But then again, Draco kept his distance from everyone. Zabini stayed near him, but Draco barely spoke to even him. He was looking tired and pale and Hermione imagined that she saw his hand shake when he tried to take some notes. He closed his eyes in frustration and Zabini bent over to say something to him. The rest of the day, only Zabini took notes while Draco stared at his empty parchment.

_Looks like Malfoy is becoming ill_.

At lunch he didn't really eat, in spite of Zabini obviously trying to be obnoxious just so he would. Draco, known for his temper and lashing out at people, just stared dully at his friend instead of reacting.

It would worry anyone who cared. Fortunately Hermione didn't care at all. Parkinson, however, was looking confused and worried and was repeatedly glancing at Zabini, who just shook his head. Malfoy didn't seem to notice his friends at all, he was too preoccupied with staring at nothing in particular. Hermione frowned irritably and turned her back on the Slytherins. She didn't care.

* * *

"Are you coming to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Last time I was hungry, obviously."

Blaise rarely intruded on Draco's privacy in his room, but today he made an exception. Draco knew that Blaise was just worried and he appreciated his friend's concern. He really did. He just wished that he would stop nagging him. Draco didn't need nagging; he just needed some peace and quiet. Some sleep would be nice too. He just needed to figure out how to not think so much. How to not want so much.

"You're not Crabbe. You don't have the bulk to starve yourself."

Ah, Crabbe. He would never have intruded and bothered Draco like this. Those were the days.

"I'll hardly starve, Blaise."

"Theo has been asking about you. He says you refuse to talk to him."

"Tell him I'm off to do You-Know-Who's bidding and to call on me in a few months' time when I'm back."

"That's not very funny, Draco. You're obviously ill and Theo is just concerned about you. You should go see Pomfrey about this. We'll think of something to tell her—it's worked so far."

Draco shook his head. "She can't help me and I don't _want_ Theo's concern. He shouldn't be wasting time on me. He's got… better things to do." He looked away, trying very hard not to think about those things.

"What, you mean like being the head boy and knowledge-monger extraordinaire?"

"Something like that."

"Or do you mean like snogging Granger?"

Draco pursed his lips, grateful for the black hole that swallowed any reaction he might have had to that. "You'll miss dinner if you don't leave now."

"You can't just turn your back on him because she wants him more than you. It's not his fault. What if it had been the other way around? Don't let some girl ruin a friendship."

"You don't know everything, Blaise. I don't want to see him or talk to him. I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want him to hurt her more because he thinks that's the way to hurt me less. And I certainly don't need him to remind me that he won without a fight."

Blaise sneered, his dark eyes glinting with annoyance. "If he won without a fight, it's only because you never fought back. But fine. Pansy has been asking about you as well." He crossed his arms, looking as if he was daring Draco to respond.

"Pansy? Why?" Confusion didn't begin to describe how Draco felt. He hadn't spoken to Pansy for about two weeks, not since she'd tried to remove Hermione's bracelet three weeks into the bet and _that_ was a conversation he'd rather forget.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "She's worried about you, you numpty."

"Why?"

"It's pretty obvious you're not well, mate. Pansy is not blind."

"That should make her happy after the way I treated her. Isn't she overdue for revenge?" In fact, come to think of it, the fact that he still had all his bits was nothing short of a miracle. Pansy wasn't known for accepting defeat gracefully.

"You know, I can't help but agree, but it doesn't make her happy. She still cares about you."

"What a fool." The statement was calm, but he couldn't help but be a bit awed that she would still care about him after everything he'd said and done to her. He wasn't sure he deserved that kind of devotion.

The look Blaise shot him told him that in his opinion there was more than one fool around. "So you're going to shut her out too?"

"No…" Draco sighed. Of course he wouldn't. "I'll talk to her. Just not right now. I'm tired."

"Fine, but I'm telling her that you won't eat, so expect a visitor later tonight."

Draco groaned but Blaise had already left.

* * *

It was really eerie how normal the world had become again. Everything was exactly the same each day. Except Malfoy. Tuesday he looked even worse than he had Monday, and Wednesday he didn't even show up for classes. He was absent again Thursday. When he didn't show up Friday either, Hermione decided to corner Zabini and hear what was going on. To her knowledge, Draco hadn't gone to the hospital wing but was just… not in class and not at meals.

After Charms, she managed to follow Zabini until they were far enough away from everyone that they could talk.

"Zabini!"

"Ah, finally it speaks. I thought you were going to follow me all the way to the dungeons, Granger…"

Hermione flushed and scowled at the arrogant twat she was forced to talk to. "I want to know what's going on."

"Of course you do. Unfortunately, I'm not about to tell you."

"Why is he missing classes and meals?"

"Oh, you noticed that, did you? I'm sure he'll appreciate that." Zabini turned to leave.

"Zabini…" she meant to demand but to her great chagrin there was a slightly pleading quality to it.

He actually stopped. "Forget it, Granger. He doesn't want you to know."

She frowned. "Why not? Why would it matter?"

"Possibly because you're always interfering. He doesn't need your interference right now. He needs you to leave him alone."

"Is he ill?"

He hesitated. "It's nothing that won't pass. Don't concern yourself."

"Is it because of the bracelet? He said there'd be consequences."

"Enough with the questions! I can't tell you. Talk to him once it's done if you really want to know."

"But—"

"No, Granger. Stay out of this." He walked away, clearly not intending to say anything else.

Blast it. What now? There was nobody else she could talk to who would know anything. Or… maybe…

_'Who knows everything that's going on and apparently can't keep his mouth shut when questioned by annoying Muggleborn witches?'_

* * *

"Why do you think I would know?" Theo's eyes were shuttered and it was impossible to tell how he felt about being asked about Draco's state.

"You know almost everything!" Hermione insisted. "And he's your friend, isn't he?"

"He's not telling me anything."

"Nobody has to tell you anything for you to know. Please, just tell me what you do know."

"What I do know?" His lips quirked sardonically. "I know he hasn't left his room for days. I know he doesn't want to see Madam Pomfrey. I know he only allows Blaise and Pansy inside his room."

"Pansy?"

Nott slowly nodded. "Yes, Pansy. I know I had to lie to Slughorn to prevent him from coming down to check on his wayward charge. I know there are… sounds…"

"Sounds?"

"As if he's in great pain or at the very least having nightmares. Two nights he cried out so loudly that it woke both Blaise and myself. Fortunately, the other rooms are further away. I went to check on him, but was, again, barred from his room. The third night… yesterday…" Again he hesitated.

"What happened?" Hermione's eyes went wide as she was imagining all kinds of horrors.

"Nothing. That is… Pansy moved into Draco's room. It seemed to calm him."

Hermione's mouth fell open. This was something she hadn't anticipated.

"I know I probably shouldn't allow it, but it's a special case, don't you think? I doubt anything but nursing is going on in there. I'd appreciate it if you didn't go and report it."

"Of course," she muttered, feeling thoroughly confused. "Anything else?"

Theo shrugged. "Like I said, Pansy's presence seems to calm him, so maybe it's not that bad anymore. But if he isn't in class Monday, he might be in some real trouble. I think he's refusing to see Madam Pomfrey to protect you since he's likely to face expulsion himself either way, considering all the problems he's already having."

"So you also think this is all because of the bracelet?"

"I can't see any other explanation. His mind seems to have become dangerously addicted."

Hermione nodded at this. He'd said it was addictive. He'd talked about a void. She just hadn't thought he had meant it quite this literally. "I need to talk to Dumbledore."

"You can't. You might both get expelled. He won't want that."

"No, I can explain to him—"

"That you played with some very dangerous and highly illegal magical jewelry that turned you into a slave and Draco into an emotional addict? You won't be doing anyone any favors."

"_No_. Dumbledore already knows something about a bond that is now broken. We had to come up with an explanation during… the other incidences. But he doesn't know about the ring and bracelet."

"You can't lie to Dumbledore, Hermione."

"Of course I can."

"No, you _can't_. He knows when he's lied to."

She shook her head. "No. I know his methods. The trick is to stay close enough to the truth for it not to matter."

Theo looked exasperated with her. "If he's well enough to attend classes on Monday, then they'll probably let it slide and none will be the wiser. Why jeopardize that?"

"Do you really think he'll be well enough by Monday?" she softly asked.

He didn't reply and that in itself spoke volumes. Hermione nodded and went off to see if Dumbledore could see her.

* * *

Draco broke the surface with a gasp, trying to shake the darkness and the pain. It wasn't easy, it tried to pull him back down. "No…" he moaned. "No, leave me alone."

"Shh," someone cooed. "It's ok, you're safe."

The bed moved as someone laid down next to him, holding him and petting him. _Hermione_. No, he knew it wasn't her. Countless times it hadn't been her. Still, he wanted to pretend and pulled her closer, imagining curls instead of silky straight hair, and kissed her. She didn't resist but just offered him comfort. She always offered him comfort. He broke the kiss and she gently kissed his forehead, holding him as if he were a child.

"Hermione?"

"Everything is ok. She's ok. Just go back to sleep," Pansy whispered.

He hurt her by calling for Hermione instead, he knew it. He wished he could explain. "I miss her."

He shuddered, suddenly feeling cold, and she held him closer. "I know you do, love. But you don't want her to see you like this, remember?"

He remembered. She probably wouldn't want to come anyway. He felt his chest tighten and his eyes burn at the reminder. "I just miss her," he whispered.

"I know." She gently kissed his cheek and brushed away the lock of hair falling into his eyes.

"Don't leave me."

"I won't."

Slowly he relaxed and allowed the darkness to claim him again.

* * *

Hermione felt restless and edgy and had finally sought refuge at the library. Malfoy was still missing classes and meals and nobody was telling her anything. She had done what she could, as had Theo, the rest were up to those that Malfoy would actually _allow_ to help him.

Like _Pansy Parkinson_.

She forced herself to ignore that part. Fine, she didn't like Pansy—putting it mildly—but if she helped Malfoy get over his stupid self-inflicted addiction, who was Hermione to interfere?

It was all so very frustrating. To top it off, no matter what she had told Theo, no matter the little – very little, to be honest – Occlumency she knew, no matter that she hadn't told an outright lie, she wasn't entirely sure how her meeting with Dumbledore had gone over. She had to remind herself that the old wizard was only human and thus fallible. Still, he had been so formidable and those eyes had seemed to see too much.

But Draco would be permitted the time to recover, she had at least gotten that. And then he would be asked to explain himself. She just hoped she could talk to him first, give him the necessary tools, and make sure he knew what to say. She had considered using her status to just march down there to his room and demand to be let in, but in the end she didn't have quite the nerve for it. Besides, if he really was that sick, he wouldn't be able to pay attention to her instructions.

She just hoped that if they ended up in worse trouble, it would drag out so the NEWTs would be over before it was fully resolved. If they had their NEWTs, nobody could undo them, could they? The very idea made Hermione's blood chill. She needed her NEWTs. She needed her straight O average. She needed the qualifications. She couldn't afford an expulsion because she allowed Malfoy to goad her into wearing a piece of stupid, illegal jewelry.

Typical Malfoy. He was the trouble that just kept on expanding.

Ok, that might be a bit unfair. He would by far face the worst of it. She wasn't _really_ likely to get expelled, after all. Her record was much too pristine for that. Draco, on the other hand, had actually let Death Eaters into the school last year, which only by sheer luck—or rather luck potion—hadn't killed anyone. If that wasn't bad enough, he had then recently witnessed his father attack a student and let him go without calling for assistance, and now… add him deliberately enslaving a fellow student. Also, he was horribly behind on schoolwork and was already struggling to keep up without adding absences like this.

If she cared, she would be very worried about him at this point. Really worried. It was good she didn't care.

* * *

**Pansy looked away and chose not to address that. "Theo kept Slughorn off your back."**

**"That's nice, but Slughorn won't be the one expelling me."**

**"Granger kept Dumbledore off your back."**

**Draco opened his mouth to reply and then realized he had nothing to say. He blinked. "What?"**


	56. Chapter 56

**I know it has been a longer wait than usual and I apologize for neglecting to warn you when I should have realized this would happen. I have a rather important exam in about a week and I cannot allow myself the distractions of ficcing and playing with my computer while cramming for it. So, yeah, the pesky Real Life is to blame. :) Rest assured that I didn't run out of inspiration or get bored or whatever some may fear. As for when the next update will happen, well... when next I have time, up to a week from now. After that I'll return to a more normal schedule until next time Real Life interferes. ;)**

**Oh, and it's five in the morning when I'm writing this, so do give me some credit for effort. ;)**

* * *

"Hermione, can I talk to you?"

Hermione looked up from the book that she was studying without much enthusiasm. "Ginny? Um… sure…" She closed the book, feeling rather distracted and apprehensive about where this might be going. She knew what Ginny wanted, of course, but she really hadn't given that whole ordeal much thought. It just hadn't seemed that important, everything considered.

Ginny sat down and subtly checked for listeners. There were none, nobody cared to study on a Tuesday night in early December. "This is awkward. I don't know how to say this."

"Then don't." Hermione honestly wasn't all that interested in Ginny's explanations. Why would Ginny explain to _her_, anyway?

"But I have to!" Ginny wrung her hands and worried her lip. "I know you didn't believe me when I said that Zabini was lying about… you know."

"Because _you_ were lying." No reason to be pretending. They both knew what was what.

Ginny had the decency to blush. "Yes, of course, but… it's not as bad as it seems, I swear! I haven't… I would never cheat on Harry."

"I know. Zabini told me as much." Hermione suppressed an urge to tell Ginny to go away, mentally telling herself off for being so unkind to her friends—even if only in her thoughts.

Ginny started and blinked. "He told you? What else did he tell you?"

Hermione sighed. It seemed like she really had to have this conversation. "That it was physical and that it didn't take you long to begin disliking each other."

Ginny shot out of her chair and began pacing. "That's the thing! We never _liked_ each other. It was just that… passions were running high. I was a mess back then, trying to get over my crush on Harry and finally breaking it off with Michael and… things happened. I mean, you should understand!"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Why would I understand?" she cautiously asked, knowing that she probably understood far better than Ginny would ever know.

"You snogged that Malfoy git, didn't you? Wasn't it the same thing?"

She slowly shook her head. "No… not the same thing."

"So you just wanted to do it, then?" Ginny frowned, perplexed.

"Magical as well as alcoholic coercion was involved. It was not the same thing."

"The thing is…" Ginny's pacing intensified. "Harry doesn't know and I _really_ don't want him to find out."

"I gathered that."

Ginny bit her lip. "He knows that there's been others. I could hardly hide that. But he doesn't know that I actually slept with the likes of Zabini and he'd finish me if he ever found out, you know he would. Please never tell him."

Hermione shook her head. "You give Harry too little credit."

"He hates Slytherins and Zabini is one of the worst of the lot. He _can't_ know!"

"If you don't tell him, then Zabini will forever be able to hold it over your head."

It was a very valid point and even Ginny reluctantly had to nod. "Yeah, but… he won't actually tell him. You think he will?"

Hermione shrugged. "If he feels provoked, he might. Why give him that power? Besides… keeping secrets from your boyfriend is never a good thing. The longer you don't tell him, the worse it will get."

Ginny plopped back down into her chair. "I understand what you're saying and why you're saying it… but it's just not that _easy_, Hermione."

Hermione sighed. "It never is, Ginny. It really never is."

"Please don't tell him." Ginny was pleading and not even pretending not to be.

"It's not my place to tell him."

"Please don't judge me."

"That's not my place either."

Ginny wearily rubbed her face. "I'll tell him… I will! I just have to find the right moment."

The elusive right moment. The one that Hermione was also waiting for to tell Theo certain parts—which parts was yet unclear—about what had happened between her and Draco. That was, if he was even interested in hearing it anymore.

Hermione sighed again. This wouldn't be fun for anyone.

* * *

This time when Draco came to, everything was different. The void seemed to have shrunk and the pain was a dull throbbing. More than that, he was aware. He was aware that he probably hadn't really eaten in a while and his stomach was rebelling. He was aware that he was in a dire need of a shower. He was aware that he was alone and he didn't even know what day it was. And, after a few minutes of gathering his thoughts, he became aware that he had been a complete and utter wanker to Pansy while being ill.

It was enough to make him hate himself. Most of his memories were fuzzy, but he was vaguely aware that she had been taking care of him and he had been taking advantage of her to fill the void, kissing her several times, and behaving in a way that was misleading at best. He had been so desperate for closeness that he hadn't even considered how much he would hurt her… again.

Damn Pansy for caring too much about him! She should look to Hermione for guidance. Hermione was smart; _she_ knew he wasn't worth it. She would never have allowed him such liberties, no matter how ill he was.

He glanced to his bedside table and found that someone had put a plate of fruit there. He dimly recalled Pansy trying to coax him to eat something… it might have been fruit. He was starving, though, so he just appreciated the food within reach. Getting into a sitting position, he reached out and grabbed an apple. He was just about to bite into it when his door opened.

"You're awake!" Pansy closed the door behind her. "And eating!"

Why was she looking so happy? Draco sighed, losing some of his appetite.

She walked over to his mirror and righted her hair. "Sorry I had to leave, but I couldn't miss classes. Getting in trouble would hardly help you."

"What day is it?"

"Thursday."

"I only missed two days?"

Being satisfied with her hair, she turned and smiled a bit sadly at him. "You missed seven days of school as well as a weekend."

Damn. He was dead. He felt oddly resigned. "Guess I won't be around Hogwarts for NEWTs, then."

"Yes, you will."

"Come on, Pans. Seven days in a row of just staying away from classes? I'm surprised that my trunk hasn't been packed for me already. It's not like they weren't already monitoring my every step."

"And it's not like you were just skiving off for the fun of it. I've never seen anyone in such a bad shape."

"But nobody knew that!"

"They would have if you would have only agreed to go to the hospital wing or to let someone come and check on you."

"And then they'd ask how and why and it wouldn't just be my trunk but also Granger's that were packed. I couldn't let that happen. It wasn't her fault."

Pansy looked away and chose not to address that. "Theo kept Slughorn off your back."

"That's nice, but Slughorn won't be the one expelling me."

"Granger kept Dumbledore off your back."

Draco opened his mouth to reply and then realized he had nothing to say. He blinked. "What?"

"She took care of it by talking to the old geezer. She even cornered me and said she could get potions from Madam Pomfrey if needed, as if we'd ever need _her_. Theo must have told her about you, because Blaise said it wasn't him. Seems like your little Granger has been busy." She sounded bitter.

"How could she… Why…?"

"I really don't know," Pansy said, her mouth setting in a grim line.

Draco closed his eyes. _Stupid. Inconsiderate. Ask Blaise about Hermione—not Pansy of all people. Not after what she's done for you._ "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here for me. It must have been difficult with me being barely coherent…"

"Oh." Her expression softened. "Don't mention it."

He had better get certain matters out of the way. "Look, whatever I may have said or… or done…"

Pansy's face fell again. "You don't give me a lot of credit, Draco."

He winced. "I was pretty out of it…"

"Don't you think I know that?" Her voice was razor-sharp and he flinched. "Don't you think I know I was just a bloody substitute? Every single time you woke and most times you were asleep, you called out for _her_!"

He didn't know what to say. She was right. He had used her. But she seemed to misunderstand one detail. "I was addicted to her through the bracelet, nothing more."

"Yes, I know that's why you got sick." She began pacing. "It was foolish of you to use it on someone like her. You tied her closely to you even though you _had_ to know what would happen. You had to know you couldn't keep her close and would suffer for it."

"I thought I could control it. I never thought it would work this way with her… I mean, I used to hate her."

"But it happened."

"Yes."

"And it wrecked you." It was a statement not a question. She knew him too well, he realized. She knew that he hadn't just become ill from it.

He shrugged and smiled wryly. "Imagine having your soul ripped out. I thought it would kill me."

"But you're better now?"

"I guess. She only wore it for a month, after all."

"But you still miss her?"

"I think…" He swallowed and frowned. "I think I'll always somehow miss her."

Pansy stopped and stared sadly at him. "You shouldn't have made her wear it."

"I know that now, Pans… I made a mistake, all right?"

It didn't feel very much like a mistake, though. It felt like the only right thing he had ever done, because suddenly it was as if a veil lifted from the world and he could finally see. Pansy wouldn't understand that, or worse—maybe she would, so he wouldn't tell her. But he knew, in his head, that it had been a mistake, and that he should be the only one paying for it.

She flopped down heavily on his bed. "I don't like her."

"I know."

"In fact, I hate her."

He couldn't help his crooked smile. "I know."

"With a fiery passion."

He didn't reply again, but just rolled his eyes and fell back against his pillows.

"Why does she always have to be such a self-righteous, stuck-up little—?"

"Pans, please!" He didn't know whether to be angry or amused with her, so he settled for amused. She really _did_ hate Hermione, she always had, and the feeling was mutual, he knew.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I just _really_ don't like her."

He shrugged. "It's not going to be a problem. _She_ really doesn't like _me_."

"That's another reason I don't like her. How dare she not appreciate what she so clearly doesn't even deserve?"

Good old Pansy, always thinking he was worth more than he actually was. She saw him for something he wasn't and even seeing his worst sides time and again didn't seem to convince her that she was wrong. Hermione, on the other hand… "You might have slightly different points of view on that."

She looked at him, her face softening again. "One day she'll realize what she threw away."

"And she won't be sorry," he curtly concluded. "I appreciate your efforts to cheer me, but it's really all right. It was just the magic affecting me, it'll fade. In a few days I won't even know why I looked at her twice. In a way it's really the magic I miss and not her."

_Liar_. He half-expected Pansy to shout the word at him, but she didn't. She didn't respond at all, but just looked down at her hands. He felt like a liar. Yet, he knew that this was the truth. This was what his father had been trying to tell him. Once you had complete control of someone's actions and complete access to their every emotion, you couldn't help but develop a protectiveness and affection for them. It would fade once she was just the annoying know-it-all Granger once again.

It had better fade. He didn't think he could live like this.

* * *

Malfoy was back in class. He looked a little worse for wear, but generally, he acted as if he'd never been gone. Pansy was gushing over him in a way that Hermione found absolutely nauseating, but, of course, Malfoy didn't seem the least bit annoyed. Then again, he had probably always preferred her company for that reason alone. It was absolutely disgusting and Hermione was very much inclined to just leave them to it.

There was just one problem: she needed to talk to him before he could talk to Dumbledore and ruin all of her careful half-truths.

She _really_ didn't want to, though. He seemed content to ignore her and pretend the whole bracelet incident had never happened, and she wanted to do the same. Perhaps he would do fine on his own with Dumbledore…

No, she couldn't take that risk.

With a great sigh, she followed him out after the last class of the day. At least Pansy wasn't with him for once. "Malfoy," she muttered without conviction, half-hoping he wouldn't hear her and she could claim she tried.

No such luck.

He stiffened and then slowly turned back to face her. "Granger," he coolly replied, his eyes not quite focusing on her but sliding off to stare at some unknown spot past her shoulder. "What is it?"

"Dumbledore wants to see you," she replied, frowning a bit at his strange, detached behavior. Maybe he wasn't entirely fine yet?

"Yes, I heard, thanks," he murmured, beginning to turn away from her.

"Don't you want to know what I told him?" she all but growled in irritation. "Or do you just _really_ want to be kicked out of Hogwarts?"

He snapped back. "Nobody asked you to interfere, Granger."

"No," she icily replied. "Nobody told me _anything_."

"Obviously someone told you too much. And I know who to blame."

"You didn't tell him anything either, and he was worried sick about you. It was really rotten of you. With friends like you, who needs enemies?" She almost winced at her own words. This was harsh. There was just something about him that provoked these shrewish statements from her time and again.

Draco's nostrils flared and his cool grey eyes darkened. He was furious. "Don't you dare lecture me on how to be a good friend, Granger! You know _nothing_! I gave up _much_ more than just getting my curiosity satisfied for him. Even though you don't understand that, _he_ should!"

"What did you give up?" Hermione challenged, more than a little curious.

He ignored her question. "I will tell Dumbledore what you told Theo you would say, all right? You're not the only one he keeps updated, you know. And obviously I know my Occlumency well enough to still be alive. Good enough? Or was there more _you_ needed?"

Hermione stared in shock as Draco stalked off.

* * *

Draco hurried to his room and noisily shut the door after himself, wanting to keep the world at bay just for a short while.

He had overreacted. He knew he had overreacted. The look on Hermione's face… She had even looked slightly hurt. As if he could ever hurt her feelings. Still, she had been trying to help and he had blown up in her face.

It had just been so frustrating to see her. The first thing he'd felt was resentment that she hadn't been there for him when he'd been ill, which was absurd. He'd forced Blaise to swear that she wouldn't gain entrance to his room. Still, for some reason, his mind had been screaming, "_Why didn't you even try? Do I really mean so little to you that you'd leave me alone to suffer?"_ while at the same time just being near her had made him feel… elated.

Because, bond or no bond, he'd missed just her presence.

And it scared him and made him angry with himself.

He needed to get past this.

He needed to try harder.

* * *

**"It's not easy for me, you know. I had to… wait… but it turns out it doesn't really make a difference and it just made you both mad at me, so…" Theo's voice trailed off, sounding uncommonly weary.**

**"So…?" Hermione asked, not sure she knew what he was talking about, but having an idea that the problem was, as usual, Malfoy.**

**He shrugged and looked away. "I'll have to accept _his_ choice, won't I?"**

**She instantly knew she had been right. "And what _is_ his choice?"**


	57. Chapter 57

**Again, I will have to apologize for being late. :( Pregnancy has made me feel not so well lately and the stress didn't help and that's all I have to say for myself. Generally, if you wonder about what is going on with me/ficcing, I have a propensity to rant about that in my livejournal and not friend-lock the posts, so you don't have to have an account to check it. You'll be able to find it by clicking "homepage" in my profile.**

* * *

So, this was how it was now: Theo was back to being distant and untouchable and Draco was back to being an absolute prat. Great. And here Hermione had thought getting the bracelet off would be a _good_ thing!

Distance or no distance, she still wanted to talk to Theo, though. To _know_. All of this avoiding the subject—assuming that Nott even thought there was a subject to avoid—and just politely coexisting was driving Hermione absolutely bonkers. If that was the way it had to be for the rest of the year then fine, but if not… they were just wasting time.

She decided to get him alone after lunch Saturday, two weeks after the end of the bet, and followed him out after the meal. Someone was quicker than her, though. Padma Patil had managed to catch up to him just at the bottom of the stairs to the first floor and was now animatedly talking to him about something.

Hermione stopped, confused. Theo didn't generally seem to talk to a lot of people for all of his knowing everything, but she supposed that he'd been working quite closely with Padma for the past month or so. Still, she didn't know if she should interrupt, so she hung back a little, waiting for their conversation to end.

As she watched, Theo bestowed one of his rare genuine smiles on Padma, and even though she knew it meant absolutely nothing, it completely removed Hermione's desire to talk to him just now. Instead she turned back to go sit down with her friends for another few minutes.

Behind her she found Malfoy, grimly looking at her and the couple in front of her, probably reaching his own conclusions, and seemingly not liking them at all. She didn't quite understand that. If there were actually something going on, he would get his wish and she wouldn't be around any Slytherin anymore, and if there weren't… well, then nothing had changed and there still was no reason to look like he wanted to murder Theo.

As she walked past him, he surprised her by speaking.

"They're just talking."

"I know," she replied, barely looking at him, not stopping in her path to the Great Hall.

* * *

Draco didn't believe he had ever been so angry with anyone before in his entire life. What the _hell_ was Theo doing? He shouldn't be ignoring Granger and instead talking more to whichever Patil than he ever seemed to talk to anyone else.

The startled look on Granger's face followed by confusion and insecurity had made Draco want to do some serious damage to his earlier friend. He wasn't supposed to _hurt_ her. Draco thought he'd made it clear that he wanted for Theo to pursue Hermione, to be with her the way they would if it hadn't been for Draco in the first place. He couldn't just throw that away. Not if he wanted to live, in any case.

So Theo wasn't actually doing anything but talking, which was also what Draco had tried to tell Granger as she turned back, but if Theo hadn't rejected her so much lately—oh, yes, Draco noticed that, he was powerless to ignore anything going on between those two—she wouldn't have doubted him now. And she did doubt, Draco could tell that she did. He imagined that she might even be more hurt than she let on. The influence from the bracelet was still strong enough that the mere suspicion of hurt made him want to rip off Theo's arms and beat him to death with them.

"Theo," he growled, having somehow moved close enough to talk to him.

Theo looked up in quickly covered surprise. "I'll talk to you later, Padma," he said.

Padma. So that was the one. Draco glared at her as she smiled one last time at Theo and then scurried off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "I suppose I was talking to the Deputy Head Girl?"

"And what about the real Head Girl?"

"What about her?" Theo asked, calmly as ever, but Draco thought he could sense an edge of confusion and perhaps wariness.

"You're hurting her," Draco bluntly stated. "Keep it up and they'll never find your corpse."

Theo's eyes chilled. "You cannot dictate our relationship, Draco."

"You told me you weren't going forward because of me, correct? If you ever cared the least bit for her or cared what I thought, you will do _something_."

"You're putting me in an impossible position."

"No, I'm not." He steeled himself and told Theo what he never wanted him to know. Someone had to stop him from acting like an indecisive git… too bad it was at the expense of Draco's last pride. "Yes, I've kissed her," he forced out. "On three separate occasions. Once she was drunk and beside herself, once she slapped me, and once…" He swallowed, this was the hard bit. "Once I had the bracelet affect her and she thought I tried to rape her. She will never forgive me that. I understand that she doesn't want me, and I understand that it was just the bracelet working its magic when it-it seemed that she might, same as it's the bracelet's magic that's been affecting me. I understand everything you wanted to make me understand." He was beginning to stammer. It was just so bloody _hard_ to be this honest. "Just stop confusing her already. I know you fancy each other so just… do it already, all right?"

Theo now looked openly surprised and concerned. "She thinks you would rape her?"

"It's not important, Theo!" Draco was feeling exasperated at Theo's apparent lack of focus. "Are you even listening at all?"

"I'm listening," Theo murmured in a voice that made Draco think he heard much more than what was being said. Well, let him hear Draco's feelings. It didn't matter, all that mattered was… Gah, he was turning into such a ponce.

"So, you'll do it then?"

"Let me see if I understand this correctly… You want me to date the girl that you want yourself to make her feel better, which in turn makes you feel better?"

"You make it sound like you don't want to," Draco muttered, ignoring the part about wanting.

"I do want to," Theo assured him, "but I also want us to be friends. You haven't been friendly lately and I can only guess why."

This bit was even harder, Draco was surprised to find. "I can't," he admitted. "You can have her and live happily ever after, but I can't be around to experience it first-hand, I just can't. Maybe once the effects wear off, but not now."

"And what if they never wear off?" Theo asked. "What then?"

Draco's throat worked as he wanted to swallow, but his dry mouth left him nothing to work with. "It has to wear off," he mumbled more to himself than Theo.

"So, essentially, I have to choose between a girl and a friend," Theo surmised.

Draco looked up in confusion. Choose? What was he talking about? There was no choice, there was no real competition! Why wouldn't he just take what was his? "I already made the choice for you," he said as calmly as he could, before he left Theo to process that.

* * *

This day was one of the better ones Hermione had had in a while. There was a riot among the prefects. Not that the prefects not getting along was a good thing—obviously—but they had come to _her_ to help sort it out. In fact, it had been a Slytherin girl from fifth year who had approached her. It would seem that strangely, while Hermione's too frequent visits to the dungeons had riled a few people, others had simply gotten used to her. And since nobody ever got used to Theo and he could seem intimidating to some of the younger students, Hermione had been chosen.

And she thought she might even have fixed it!

It had all been due to some perceived preferential treatment. A couple of Ravenclaw prefects had managed to get around being scheduled for rounds quite a bit and they had been so clever about it that Padma hadn't noticed. At least Hermione hoped her chosen Deputy hadn't noticed. However, the ones caught begging off would now be doing rounds until they had caught up on their quota and then some, and she would be doing her own among them. After all, she had also been a layabout for far too long. As had Malfoy. With grim satisfaction, she planned to schedule him often, preferably at his worst nights, the ones after Quidditch practices and with the subjects he found most dull the next morning—partnered with anyone but herself, of course.

Hey, what was life without just a little bit pettiness? She refused to feel bad about this, seeing as he had really been shirking his responsibilities lately.

So, it was with her head full of plans she entered the office late that night, not even noticing that Theo was already there before she was halfway across the room.

Of course, it could be due to the fact that he wasn't at his desk as usual, but rather sitting in the couch, looking thoughtful, even for him.

"I've been talking to Draco," he said without greeting as soon as she noticed him. "You don't honestly think he'd rape you, do you?" He sounded concerned about the answer.

Hermione felt herself blush a deep crimson. So much for telling him about _that_ incident at the right moment. Looking down but feeling his eyes on her, she shrugged. "S'pose not," she muttered.

"I didn't think so," he said, his voice gaining a hard edge. "It wouldn't fit with your actions lately. Yet, you're cruel enough to let him think you think so. Why? I know he's… done things to you while you wore the bracelet that you might want to punish him for… but _rape_? I don't think he deserves that."

Hermione felt herself becoming angry and defensive at the sudden attack. "I didn't know he was even listening to me when I said that, all right?" she countered. "He's said _nothing_ to me about it and I don't appreciate being… cornered like this! I haven't even told anyone about it, so, as far as I'm concerned, him thinking for a while that I think he did it on purpose does seem a fitting punishment if he should care whatever the hell I think. I'm sorry if I'm not as perfect and forgiving as all you _Slytherins_ seem to be. Or maybe you're all just really big _bigots_!"

She turned on her heel, ready to storm off, but was stopped by Theo's suddenly quiet voice. "I'm sorry," he said with a low sigh. "Of course you didn't spread tales or anything, I know that. But he does care what others think and I worry that one of these days he's going to decide that since everyone thinks he's a horrible person anyway, he might as well do something stupid. The path to becoming one of _them_ is so much easier than the alternative, trust me. I don't want that for him."

Hermione allowed for that. "Still…" she muttered, feeling very bruised.

He'd risen and was very slowly coming towards her. "He cares more about everything than you think. He just tries not to show it too much. Please don't be too hard on him when you can help it… for me, if you cannot do it for him."

"Why would I do it for either of you?" she asked, still feeling hurt and ready to lash out. In the back of her mind she felt a bit unreasonable, but she was just so tired of this whole thing with Theo. First he kissed her, then he ignored her, and now he was asking these kinds of favors of her. What was all of this?

"Oh," he said, stopping his approach a few feet away from her. He was frowning, looking strangely confused. "I thought you might… not mind. Is it that difficult to do, then?"

She stared at him. She didn't know what to make of his expression and decided to just give up. All fight left her and she went over and plonked herself down into her chair. "I'll play nice," she said with a weary sigh. "Won't bother him for the rest of the year if I can help it. Promise." She turned her back on him to begin doing her work, but after she hadn't heard any sounds for a few minutes, she turned back to see him standing in the same spot, now frowning at the poor unsuspecting floor.

Very peculiar indeed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, feeling a bit concerned. "I _am_ going to play nice. I'm sorry I let my temper get the better of me."

He looked up, still frowning. "Was it wrong of me to assume that you… might still like me?"

Hermione felt the need to blink. The concept of Theo being wrong, or even him thinking that he was, was somewhat foreign to her. Still, after this conversation, she hesitated. "I told you, it was just my temper."

"That's not what I asked, Hermione," he quietly said. "I know I'm putting you on the spot and I'm sorry about that, but your answer makes a great difference."

"So you'll know whether to ignore me some more?" she asked, cursing her voice for the trace of bitterness in it.

He looked both relieved and distressed. "I guess that answers it, then." Now he was the one to hesitate. "It's not easy for me, you know. I had to… wait… but it turns out it doesn't really make a difference and it just made you both mad at me, so…" Theo's voice trailed off, sounding uncommonly weary.

"So…?" Hermione asked, not sure she knew what he was talking about, but having an idea that the problem was, as usual, Malfoy.

He shrugged and looked away. "I'll have to accept _his_ choice, won't I?"

She instantly knew she had been right. "And what _is_ his choice?"

"To break off our friendship with a blessing for me to be with you."

Hermione's lip drew back in what came near to a snarl. "Some kind of blessing."

"It's the best that he can do and more than could be expected under the circumstances."

"Circumstances?" Hermione asked, not wanting to know, really.

He sighed, looking rather defeated. "I don't have a lot of friends. Not any, really. _Creepy_ and _omniscient_ you once called me, yes? Well, just about everyone else thinks the same. And I'm not really that outgoing. Draco was… different. He always seemed to accept me on my own terms. Nobody else ever really did. I wanted to keep that friendship as well as… well… gain you, but it's impossible."

"Then keep your friendship," she softly replied, feeling quite sick at the turn of this conversation. Of course Draco would get in the way. "I understand. Friends are the most important thing."

At this, Theo looked extremely frustrated. "I don't know what I would have done. But as I said, he didn't give me a choice. He told me he couldn't be my friend anymore and expressed hopes that you and I would…" He shook his head. "More than I would have expected, though," he mumbled to himself.

Hermione shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "If we just… don't, then he'll probably realize that you can still be friends since there's no Mudblood between you." She couldn't help twisting the word _Mudblood_ a bit.

He quickly glanced at her. "First off, he wouldn't accept that. Draco is… very stubborn. He might just get angry that I let you go, worsening the whole thing. Second, it's not about blood, Hermione. He… Wearing the ring… It changed how he saw you. You have to have noticed."

Nope, she hadn't noticed at all. Or, rather, she tried not to. It was kind of hard to ignore, but she valiantly did her best. Soon it would change back and they'd all be better off for it. "It'll wear off," she honestly replied. "I think the way it works is that the one wearing the ring will begin feeling naturally protective since he has such complete control over the one wearing the bracelet. It's sort of an insurance system to benefit the, um, the wives, I guess."

"That's a bit like his theory." Theo paused and then rushed on. "But he's more than protective, and you know it as well as he does and better than I do. He's possessive. He tries to control it, but that's why he has difficulties being around you and allowing you to be with anyone else. He's jealous. You _must_ have seen it. He isn't used to the emotion and has difficulties hiding it."

Hermione gaped. That was a bit too much insight for her liking. And it was _really_ uncomfortable to think about. "It'll pass," she murmured.

Theo nodded. "It's probable. But it's why this is a big gesture from him. He's feeling these things, but he's choosing to remove himself completely from the equation so as to not cause any problems."

Gah. When he put it like that, Hermione began to feel bad for _some_ of her earlier petty thoughts.

"Still, it's temporary," she argued. "In a few weeks, he'll have forgotten all about it."

Theo sighed again, just sounding sad about the whole thing. "Who knows? I haven't been able to find more information about this bracelet and ring. For all I know, the magic might have been made to last forever. What if he doesn't recover completely?"

Hermione stared at him in horror. That was something she would prefer never to contemplate.

* * *

**Want to play a round of guess who? Nah, it's almost too easy... **

**"Oh, splendid! I get the one that looks murderous!" the girl complained.**

**At this Blaise's snigger turned into a cough as he choked on his spirits.**

**Draco wasn't aware he'd been scowling, but now his scowl deepened. "Do I know you?" he coldly asked.**

**The girl shrugged. "No, but my sister is in your year, I believe."**


	58. Chapter 58

**Ok, so I've realized a few things lately. One is that I'm not going to bother stressing about deadlines for the time being. The chapters will be here when they get here. I'm now 30 weeks pregnant. Some of you know how that is and probably most of you don't. It means I'm tired a lot of the time, pains in various places, most notably the back, and then there's all the stuff that needs to be done for us to be ready. You know I'll never abandon this story, I'm just limiting my own stress a bit. Who knows, updates might not even slow down but if they do... it means nothing.  
**

**If updates are too slow, try checking out the Quibbler Awards for some more good reading. You probably won't have time to really vote as they wrap up on September 14th and there are a LOT of fics in the various categories, but there are a lot of fics nominated, a lot of different ships, and one should think they're considered _good_ fics since they're nominated in the first place, no? ;) Link is in my profile.  
**

* * *

So, Theo seemed to have listened to him and patched things up with Hermione.

Good. It was what he wanted. He was pleased.

Draco refused to acknowledge that what he was feeling was anything _but_ pleased.

It had taken a few days since Draco's confrontation with Theo, especially Hermione had seemed a bit awkward at first, but now… it just seemed inevitable. Draco had had to change his path to class several times because those two had been flirting in the halls and Hermione had looked so blushing and pleased for herself that Draco had been… pleased as well.

Ok, fine. More like mind-numbingly jealous. He could admit that to himself as long as he didn't have to admit it to anyone else. But at the same time, this _was_ what he wanted to happen and they both seemed happy and so, all was good.

On to the next fairytale that wouldn't include him.

Only… life didn't quite work that way. He would still have to constantly see them in classes, at meals, at school events, around the halls, and even in his common room for the next six months. He had a fair idea that he might go insane from it.

Stories never included that part. The part where life went on in an agonizingly slow pace and you just couldn't do anything about it.

Bah.

He sat scowling at his both least and most favorite Muggleborn witch in Charms, when a theatrical whisper from directly in front of him caught his ear. "_Maybe if that Granger would spend more time on taming that horrible hair of hers and less time on being an annoying swot, she could actually get a date…_" His eyes widened in surprise and anger and then, without thinking, he reacted, shaking even Blaise from his bored stupor.

Terry Boot, the unfortunate Ravenclaw, who had not been speaking his sarcastic remark about swotty Granger low enough, suddenly found his head shoved down to his desk with such a force that his nose gave a sickening crack and started bleeding all over the place.

The yelp and incoherent angry accusations turned the classroom temporarily chaotic, until Flitwick managed to send Boot off to the hospital wing and ask the class what had happened as he had had his back turned at the time.

"Ask Malfoy, Sir," Michael Corner, Boot's friend who had been sitting right beside him, resentfully said.

Flitwick turned his gaze to Draco with both exasperation and disappointment evident on his face. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged. "He's a bit clumsy, Professor," he said in a frosty voice. "Guess he _slipped_."

Corner seemed about to object when Blaise interjected, barely stifling a yawn in time. "Yeah, I saw it too."

Again, Corner opened his mouth, but for the second time someone else beat him to it. "Boot should have known better than to tempt the fates with such a stunt," Theo was calmly saying. "I guess he's learned to just sit still and be quiet now."

"Yes," a quiet voice that made Draco's eyes widen added. "We noticed, too. Didn't we, Ron?"

_Potter._ Draco was instantly feeling blistering resentment surging through him. Who was Potter to think he needed any help from him? They had it all covered, no need for the Boy Who Needed To _Die_ to interfere in his annoying better-than-thou way.

Corner was now looking annoyed but resigned. With Theo being Head Boy and Potter being every teacher's pet, there was really no contradicting _both_ of them.

"I guess," Weasley reluctantly replied. "I suppose we'd better talk to him about how not to break bones in class."

"Coming from you, that wouldn't mean much, Weasley," someone said from the back and almost everyone sniggered.

Professor Flitwick stared at the unlikely assortment of people giving testimony to the same lie. Draco didn't particularly care whether he bought it, though, so he just snuck another glance at Hermione instead. She was sitting ramrod straight, staring directly ahead with bright blushing cheeks.

She must have heard. She must know. She seemed humiliated at the whole thing. Draco found this odd, because she'd never seemed to care much what people said about her, so he eventually concluded that it couldn't have been Boot's stupid remark eliciting this response.

But, of course, half the class had seen what Draco had done and would probably soon find out the reason. She mustn't want that—or rather, he knew she didn't want that. He just hadn't thought of it. Momentarily, he hadn't thought at all, but had just felt a flash of rage and had acted impulsively. Stupidly. He had to remember that she didn't want him to do things like this. She didn't want him to do anything.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands, ignoring Blaise's puzzled and speculative look. Blaise would be a bitch about this, Draco was sure. He would prod and poke for an explanation and then mercilessly tease.

Flitwick apparently decided to let them get away with it, because suddenly class was over and Draco was as free as he had been before. He was almost sorry about that fact.

He packed his things and tried to leave, but was soon caught up to by Theo.

"You can't do things like that, Draco," he said without preamble.

Draco winced. "I know," he muttered. "It won't happen again, all right?"

He tried to walk away, but Theo stopped him again. "Just be more careful. Not being expelled for half a school year shouldn't be that difficult."

Expelled? Draco glanced at Theo. He had just accidentally invaded Theo's turf and then Theo's concern was that Draco might get _expelled_? "Don't worry about me," he muttered. "I always seem to survive, don't I?"

This time he managed to take about three steps before someone else blocked his way. Granger. He had to suppress a groan. He couldn't talk to her. He took great pains to avoid talking to her. This was beyond horrible because… _he didn't want to talk to her_.

Throwing an inner tantrum somehow helped a bit.

"What the hell was that?" she asked in a low hiss, looking about as happy about what he'd done as he'd figured she would be.

"What was what, Granger?" he asked, desperately scanning the other students for Blaise.

"You know what!"

"Ah, that," he muttered. How the hell did she _know_ from her front row seat, anyway? "It was just… nothing, ok? He was annoying me."

"So you _break his nose_?" Her voice was rising a bit, and he noticed her eyes had grown big and round with incredulity.

He didn't know what to say and helplessly looked to Theo for aid. Theo pretended not to notice, looking everywhere but at them. Crap. What a coward. "It's easily fixed. I bet you can't even tell it was broken anymore. Madam Pomfrey is good with bones."

"What's _really_ going on, Malfoy?" she demanded.

He knew why she was asking this. She expected him to lose these feelings. And he would. Eventually. Just not yet. He could imagine that the prospect of it not happening was actually frightening her. He wondered if she was afraid he would try to pursue her. He knew she was very uncomfortable with having to reject him, and she was probably afraid she had to do it again because he hadn't gotten the message. "Nothing is going on," he said in a very tired voice. "He was being a plonker and I overreacted, all right? But sensing your gratitude, it won't happen again, I promise."

He finally located Blaise, who had apparently lingered and was emerging from the classroom much later than everyone else. Quickly, he slipped to the other boy's side.

Even knowing what Blaise would put him through, it was still better than talking to _her_.

Blaise was looking exceedingly amused. Of course he was. Blaise always loved it when Draco was miserable.

"So…" he said, making Draco groan inwardly. "You probably know what I'm going to ask."

"Just get it out of your system," Draco moaned.

Blaise shrugged and grinned. "Ok, then. You going to come down to the common room for the early Christmas celebrations tomorrow?"

Draco's confused look must have been truly humorous, because Blaise laughed out loud.

"Hadn't planned on it," Draco muttered.

"Of course you hadn't," Blaise said, sounding a bit annoyed behind his amusement. "You prefer to mope and brood and sit around pouting about your own inactivity instead of trying to go for what you want."

Draco didn't argue. In a way it was all true, but he just didn't know how to fix it in a way that wouldn't just be stupid and lead nowhere. "What's your point?"

"Come down tomorrow night and I won't ever mention what happened today."

When put like that, Draco had to agree to it. After all, what was a few hours at a dumb party compared to weeks in hell being mocked for his more unfortunate inclinations?

* * *

Hermione felt ready to pull out her own hair. _Gratitude_? His little stunt in there was only about to make people speculate even more about their relationship and… and… and… _breaking someone's nose_? Boot's remark hadn't even been half as bad as several that Malfoy had made himself! Some of them even fairly recently!

A low chuckle brought her out of her state of fretting. She turned her glare on Theo, who was the one apparently laughing at her, although he only looked partly amused. He raised his hands as if in surrender. "Hey, I didn't do anything."

"No, you didn't!" she growled, still not entirely calm. "Because you're _sane_. Sane people don't become violent like that out of nowhere. What was he _thinking_?"

Theo shrugged. "Perhaps I should have become violent. What Boot said wasn't very nice. I do believe that I'm supposed to act in your defense in such instances."

Hermione snorted. "Please. I've had worse. From Malfoy too! What are people going to think now?"

Theo's lip tightened in a concerned frown. "Hopefully nothing. It will be hard on Draco if they think he still likes you."

She groaned at the thought. "Hard on _him_? What about me? I wish he'd just… go away. Far away. _Really_ far away. Leave me alone. Forever."

Theo looked down. "It would be easier for you, wouldn't it? If he got expelled or let his father take him back… or if he died."

Shock didn't begin to describe what Hermione was feeling. "Of course not!" she sharply reproached the Slytherin Head Boy. "How dare you even suggest that I would _want_—"

"It's the only things that could make him leave school at this point, Hermione," Theo softly interrupted. "And although I didn't mean to suggest that that's what you meant, I _do _mean to suggest that it _would_ be easier for _you_… It would even be somewhat easier for me, too, wouldn't it?"

Hermione violently shook her head. "Don't be stupid!" she hissed. "I don't want for anyone to turn evil, die or get _expelled._ It's not worth that. I don't care _that_ much about what people think, I just want some peace!"

She turned her back on Theo and stalked away, not noticing that he was considering her thoughtfully, trying to work out her response.

* * *

"It's not so bad, is it?"

Draco glowered at Blaise. It wasn't that he didn't like parties. He used to love parties. He was usually a fairly outgoing person who, among other things, loved fun and attention, two things readily had at parties.

But he wasn't interested in attention this time around and everything earlier deemed 'fun' he now just found lame, so he was sitting in his chair, counting the seconds until he could leave, and wondering why Blaise had been so adamant that he join. Probably because misery liked company, because no matter what he said, Blaise wasn't having any fun either. He was drinking much more heavily than he usually was and he didn't even glance at the girls. In fact, when a cute girl subtly expressed interest, he rudely snubbed her.

It was well beyond Draco what they were even doing here, but he was enduring. He just refused to pretend to be having any fun that he wasn't having.

Eventually the common room was completely full and seating became a problem as it always did. Draco didn't particularly care. He could always get a seat. He was high enough in the hierarchy that just a look would make anyone scurry away, even now.

So his surprise when he was suddenly made a seat for some fifth year girl was considerable. The audacity was unheard of. A quick glance around showed him that he wasn't the only victim to this kind of behavior, as a whole group of girls had apparently decided that their male housemates were being rude in not sharing their seats.

From his own seat, Blaise sniggered. He didn't have anyone on his lap, though, and Draco had to wonder whether they had avoided him, taking his current mood into consideration, or whether he had simply pushed the poor girl off.

An action that Draco was seriously considering himself as he was in no mood for these kinds of games.

"Oh, splendid! I get the one that looks murderous!" the girl complained.

At this Blaise's snigger turned into a cough as he choked on his spirits.

Draco wasn't aware he'd been scowling, but now his scowl deepened. "Do I know you?" he coldly asked.

The girl shrugged. "No, but my sister is in your year, I believe."

"Ah, so _you_ know _me_," he muttered, taking another sip of his drink. "How charming."

"Everyone knows _you_, Malfoy. You're the source of much great entertainment."

Draco narrowed his eyes and looked once more at the girl. Her hair was long, reaching the middle of her back, and a light brown, and she had light blue eyes. It wasn't a very striking combination by any means, but she was pretty enough. And she reminded him of someone.

"Daphne's sister, I take it?" he asked.

She nodded in agreement. "Yes. People do say we look alike. I don't see it, though."

Draco shrugged and looked away. Fine, so he wouldn't push her off, but he didn't particularly care to socialize any more with her. The girl didn't seem to mind but entered into an animated discussion with someone else.

Blaise was still drinking and Draco had to wonder how much he'd had. Blaise didn't usually drink. He used to say that drinking made people stupid, and he'd leave it to other blokes to get drunk and then steal their girls while they were busy acting like complete arseholes.

Of course, tonight he wasn't interested in stealing any girls. He seemed much more interested in being the arsehole. This was wrong.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" an annoyed female voice was bluntly voicing Draco's concerns.

Blaise twisted his lips in a sarcastic grimace. "Tracey… concerned, are we? I'm touched." He took another swig and Draco winced, having a strange premonition that Blaise wasn't about to do this gracefully.

Crap. This might not be pretty.

* * *

**Draco looked away, unable to watch anymore of this. It seemed so painfully familiar to him. _This_ bit he could understand, and he hated the certainty that his friend was about to receive a very painful rejection.**

**After a few moments the silence from them prompted him to turn his head back and his jaw dropped.**


	59. Chapter 59

**Couldn't let Hermione's birthday pass without an update. It's way overdue, anyway. Also, had forgotten I had left off with such a cliffhanger. Sowwie.**

**For the curious: Since last time they checked me for both gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia, but I'm fine. Well, except for a few the things that made them check me in the first place, I suppose. XD But, really, fine. Just really busy with this whole getting-ready-for-baby thing. Never knew that would take so much of my time. But then again, I also never knew that pregnancy would be this hard on your _nipples_. 'nuff said. Oh, and those of you who asked: The due date is November 11th. ;)  
**

**Also, in the next few days I have to finish my entry for the dmhgficexchange. Guh. It's an anonymous exchange so can't really say which story is mine etc before the reveal, but I'll make sure to put a link in my profile to the exchange so you can check it out, if you like. If nothing else, it's a steady supply of Dramione fics, starting in about a week. You have to join the community to read anything NC-17 posted, though.**

* * *

Draco looked from Tracey to Blaise and back again, considering the odds of Blaise getting parts of his anatomy hexed off him before the night was over.

His calculations resulted in pretty good—or rather bad—odds.

"You were being an arse to Lucinda," Tracey accused.

Lucinda? Probably either the girl Blaise had rejected or a girl who had tried to use Blaise for a seat. Draco lightly shook his head. Didn't Davis understand that Blaise was pining for _her_ and couldn't care less about anyone else? If he wanted to be left alone, they should just respect that and go bother some other bloke.

"Blond one?" Blaise asked with a shrug. "She was being a nuisance. Good riddance."

"Not like you to turn down a pretty girl." Tracey folded her arms. "And so rudely too. Continue like this and you'll soon have ruined the reputation you worked so hard for."

"Why do you even bloody care?" Blaise was fairly growling. "So I didn't feel like snogging your little friend, so what? Since when do you get to hire me out? All evidence to the contrary, you don't own me and I don't have to whore on your command."

Draco was a bit shocked at the venom in Blaise's words. He tried to imagine what was going on and how Blaise felt, but failed to get anything more than a basic idea.

Tracey shook her head, looking sad. "You make a mean drunk. Stop drinking and go to bed."

"Will I be permitted to go alone?" Blaise asked, the bitterness still evident in him. "Or maybe _you_ will want to come along? How about it, Trace, another ride for old time's sake? I'm sure I could still manage to make it worth your while. Or would you prefer it if I charged for my services? Or maybe you should charge for yours? I'm a little confused here…"

To Draco's great surprise, Tracey's eyes were filling with tears. She was not as cold and indifferent as Blaise was insinuating and his friend was currently being a huge arse. "Blaise…" he muttered, hoping to stop him, but nobody heard him. There was too much noise and they were too absorbed in their own conversation.

"Fine," she finally said. "Go to hell, Zabini. What do I care?"

She was about to walk away when Blaise suddenly straightened and changed his tactics. Maybe he'd seen the same as Draco. "Wait," he almost pleaded. "Wait… I'm sorry. I didn't mean… You aren't… I'm just a jerk, you know that." He paused long enough for her to turn to look at him. "But I'll do whatever it is you want… for a kiss."

She stared at him incredulously, seemingly almost forgetting her hurt in her surprise. "_What_? Forget it! Do you honestly think I'll be this easily—"

"Just a kiss!" Blaise interrupted. "Because it's Christmas. Because you know what a miserable holiday it is for me. Because I miss you. One kiss and I'll go to bed and not offend you or any more of your friends. That's what you want from me, right?"

She still stared at him.

"Please?"

Draco looked away, unable to watch anymore of this. It seemed so painfully familiar to him. _This_ bit he could understand, and he hated the certainty that his friend was about to receive a very painful rejection.

After a few moments the silence from them prompted him to turn his head back and his jaw dropped.

This certainly didn't look like the rejection he had imagined. In fact, he felt obliged to turn his head away again. Tracey was actually sitting on Blaise's lap, and their kiss seemed very… intimate. It actually hurt Draco in a very strange way to see how in love Blaise was with the girl he was kissing.

Draco was extremely confused, but then again, Blaise always seemed to get what he wanted in the end. Draco didn't usually envy him this, but right now he was powerless not to hate his friend for the ease with which he seemed to draw his girl in.

"_Doesn't she have a boyfriend?_"

Draco didn't notice who said that, but he looked up to see that the couple were beginning to attract attention. And, indeed, Tracey _did_ have a boyfriend, didn't she? Poor bloke, he hadn't signed up for this.

"No…" he heard her mutter in that same moment. "Blaise, stop. No more. You should go."

"Come with me," Blaise whispered. "You know I didn't mean what I said. It wouldn't be like that. It never was and never will be. Not with us."

She shook her head. "No, Blaise… it's over between us. This was stupid. I don't know why…"

Blaise's eyes dropped and his jaw clenched at her rejection. Ok… maybe he didn't have it so easy, after all. Tracey began pushing at the arms surrounding her to get up and he let them drop, not fighting her as she got to her feet. "You're happy with him, aren't you?" he finally quietly asked. "But he will hear about this and he won't be happy…"

"As I said, this was a mistake." Tracey was avoiding Blaise's eyes as she was righting herself, trying to look inconspicuous although it was obvious that half the room was secretly watching.

"Tell him… about us," Blaise said, his voice sounding strangely strangled. "What was before, I mean. Say I used it to blackmail you. He didn't see; he won't know the difference."

Tracey shook her head. "He'll kill you."

Blaise shrugged, trying hard to look indifferent, but still showing the pain of his rejection. "I've dealt with jealous boyfriends before. This way, you probably won't lose him." He abruptly got to his feet. "I'm going now. I promised, after all. Night, Tracey. Night, Draco."

To Draco's great surprise, Blaise's walk wasn't even unsteady. It seemed he could hold his liquor pretty well, no matter what it had seemed.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. So, Blaise had obviously known he'd been listening. That was sort of embarrassing—for both of them. Yet Blaise hardly seemed embarrassed at all—but then again, he was never embarrassed about anything. He opened his eyes again to find Tracey staring at him. Clearly, _she_ hadn't known he'd been listening, him and the girl on his lap being the only ones close enough to actually hear, and she was embarrassed.

_Serves her right._

Draco knew things weren't as simple as they seemed, they never were, but how could she kiss someone who was clearly head over heels for her like that and then tell him it was nothing but a mistake? He found it cruel and heartless.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "And you're wrong."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're a Legilimens, then?"

She ignored him. "He exaggerates. He's like that. He's melodramatic and a bit of a romantic, and lately he likes to play the part of the tragic hero. Right now he thinks that he… that we might somehow fit together, but if I were stupid enough to throw away everything for him again, it would just be more sneaking around and he'd get bored within a couple of weeks… Blokes like him… It's a mistake to ever take them seriously."

He could tell that she believed it. What he couldn't exactly tell was whether she wanted it to be different, or whether she didn't care. Nevertheless, he shook his head. "You're the one who's wrong. You're not the first girl to turn him down, you know. You're not the first girl to develop feelings for him, either."

Tracey's eyes widened and she exhaled sharply. "He _told_ you about that?"

Draco shrugged, showing all his considerable indifference to her feelings. "He's human; he needs to talk to people sometimes. Learn to live with it." He paused, considering whether he'd do Blaise a favor or just the opposite by saying anything more. He finally decided that he just hated for the bird to continue being so ignorant and that he could hardly do any damage as it was. "Here's what was different with you," he calmly continued. "He didn't break it off as soon as he suspected you might like him as more than a good shag, and he didn't let you go without a fight as soon as you got sick of him. He _does_ want to be with you, but he wants you to be happy more, and he probably would never be able to offer you a full relationship, which seems to be what you want. He understands that part and accepts it as a reason for you to reject him, so there's _no_ need to invent new reasons by claiming he doesn't care about you. He does. He just proved that, didn't he? He'll let you blacken his name and your boyfriend blacken his eye just so your happiness won't be marred by your own inconstancy."

Tracey was looking away, and Draco could tell that she didn't want to believe him and probably wasn't even listening. He sighed. Well, like he'd just said, there _were_ plenty of reasons for her not to go for Blaise. It wasn't as if anyone expected her to be his dirty little secret forever, no matter what their feelings might be. And, anyway, he was just here to make Blaise happy, and since Blaise was gone…

He tapped the girl on his lap on the shoulder, briefly wondering whether she'd been paying any attention. Probably not. She seemed busy with her own lot. "Excuse me," he said, when he finally got her attention. "Think you could get off so I can go to bed?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Now, there's a new one…"

He stared at her in puzzlement for a second, before he realized what he'd said and groaned. "Think you could get _up_?"

She actually took the time to consider. Cheeky. "Perhaps. If you could tell me why Zabini was snogging Tracey."

A good shove _would_ send the girl sprawling on the floor. It would be quick, efficient and, well, very amusing. Yet, Draco found himself just smirking and saying, "Blaise would snog anyone. In fact, he almost snogged me once on a dare. Better be careful around him, little girl."

Of course, there was nothing quite as entertaining as patronizing younger students, and she didn't disappoint in the way she scowled at him. It was mostly funny because she couldn't be that much younger, really. It was hard to tell just how old she was, but if he should venture a guess, he'd say she was probably sixteen. Heck, a couple of months ago he might not have minded her position so much, but right now… he couldn't feel less interested in having her here.

"I _know_ about Zabini, you twit. A sister in your year, remember? Not to mention that he's not been shy with the girls in _my_ year. But this was different and don't you dare deny it. I'm neither blind nor deaf."

Draco pursed his lips, wondering if she _had_ been listening before, but decided that he might as well continue lying. Let her call him on it to his face if she had been listening. "He was drunk. He gets a bit dramatic when he drinks. Sometimes snogging really doesn't mean anything, you know."

The girl nodded thoughtfully. "As when you snogged that Granger? Now _that_ was a sight—" She squealed as he almost toppled her to the floor when making a sudden movement, and then she giggled. "Or maybe not. Interesting."

He scowled, wondering how this had all ended back at Hermione. "Exactly like that," he forced out.

"Why did you kiss her?" The girl tilted her head slightly, looking at him.

"Why not?" He immediately recognized the mistake of not dismissing the conversation right away. Now she would think this was something that could be discussed—damn it.

"I can see many reasons why _not_ but very few why you would."

He sighed. "She was there. It really doesn't take more than that." It was funny how someone as relatively inconspicuous as Daphne could have such a… perky… sibling.

"Oh, good reason. Of course. That explains everything." She rolled her eyes.

He shook his head in bafflement. "Since when do I have to explain myself to some girl I don't even know?"

She beamed at him. "Since you found out that she's a gossip and that if you came up with a _really_ good story she'd spread it and people might go easier on you."

Draco paused. They might go easier on Hermione as well—or, rather, he might find a way to make it so people no longer thought there was a connection and she'd stop being bothered by it. "Too much to drink, girl snuggling on my lap… You people seem to vastly overestimate the willpower of a spoiled seventeen-year-old wizard like me." He shook his head again. "I don't understand why people think it's anything more than that…"

She frowned thoughtfully and nodded. "There's one flaw in that story, though…"

He stared at her expectantly and she motioned towards his glass and herself. He realized what she was saying. "Maybe I learned my lesson," he pointed out. "Last time gave me nothing but trouble."

She pursed her lips and he knew what she was thinking. It wouldn't compare. She was the right blood, the right house, the right everything. Hell, she was even prettier than her older sister. He just… didn't want anything to do with her. He didn't want anyone but Hermione. Acting the typical spoiled seventeen-year-old wizard didn't come to him very naturally these days.

Suddenly, she seemed to reach a decision. "Here's the thing," she announced. "You're a bit of a moody brat, but I sort of like you. You let me sit here, even though I _know_ you considered less chivalrous options, so I'm going to help you out."

He leaned back into the chair. "Would this help by any chance involve you getting off my lap?"

"Eventually," she said dismissively. "Now, be a good boy and play along. It might take a bit after the stunt you pulled yesterday."

He opened his mouth to ask what she was on about when he felt her lips against his and froze. His first instinct was to push her away, but he hesitated. This _would_ help quiet the talk about him and Hermione, but the girl probably had ulterior motives. She probably still thought that Draco Malfoy would be worth catching, seeing as he didn't advertise the fact that he was reduced to nothing but a broke refugee. But if she thought she could use him, wouldn't it be appropriate if he used her instead? If it would help Hermione get rid of the talk she seemed to hate so much?

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore that he didn't want this kiss.

* * *

**Ginny shrugged. "Run-of-the-mill, really. He just snogged some girl. Only, people are a bit surprised with the… you know… everything that's been going on, and the pureblood arses are pleased that he finally seems to focus on someone with the right blood and background."**

**Hermione coughed as discreetly as she could to dislodge the bit of carrot that had somehow gotten stuck in her throat. "What?" she croaked, once she was fairly sure she could breathe again.**


	60. Chapter 60

**Sucky, sucky pregnant lady is so late in updating again :P It probably won't get better for a while. He's due on November 11, you know. That's... not far from now. I'm big, heavy, sore, tired and have a lot of heartburn. Those who tell you being pregnant is a joy LIE or clearly forgot the physical realities of the thing. XD I know that the joy of him kicking certainly wanes whenever he delivers a particularly nasty kick to my ribs or kidney. ;)**

**Oh, and just something I've been wanting to say... Yes, I know Bracelet has a lot of chapters, but please do not confuse that with it being very long. There are many, _many_ longer stories out there. I just post relatively short chapters, something I wouldn't have done if I had realized at the time how long it would become. Not about to change MO mid-fic, though, so it is how it is. Just think of every "real" chapter being 2-3-4 chapters long :P The actual fic thus far is about 155k words, no lightweight but not the length of e.g. Deathly Hallows (199k words) yet either. :)**

**Let me take the chance to try and pimp the dmhgficexchange to you again. They will post three new fics _a day_ for the next month (no WIPs, they are all finished works) so go reeeeaad. I put more info and a link in my bio. And yesss, I contributed but it's anonymous so you won't know with what or when it's posted until the master list is posted at the end. ;) Since I'm not likely to finish Bracelet in the next month (unless I can do the "ROCKS FALL, EVERYONE DIES!!" kind of ending? XD) it won't technically be written AFTER Bracelet, and I guess I might post it here on ffnet. After the reveal. But, still, go check out the whole exchange. Personally, I will try to read all of them.  
**

* * *

Hermione decided that there was a reason boys tended to lean towards physical violence: They needed to weed out the stupid ones of their sex, as their kind of stupidity was leaps and bounds beyond _normal_ stupidity.

Unfortunately, they weren't doing a very good job of it, and currently everyone was insane. No better word for it.

She'd tried talking to Harry after the incident in class, but, being insane and all, he didn't see anything wrong with anyone's actions—except Boot's. In fact, he commended Draco on '_being much less of an egotistical prat than usual_'. He was only concerned about Draco's reasoning, contemplating that Draco might be doing this solely to raise speculations about Hermione, something that her honesty sadly required her to admit was unlikely.

What nobody seemed to appreciate was that such brainless male actions started gossip, no matter what the intentions behind them were. Normally, she didn't mind gossip that much. She'd learned to live with people being annoyed at her eagerness in class and insulting her with the common term _know-it-all_, often even disparaging her looks, her hair, and—in earlier times—her teeth. She could live with that and recognize the remarks for what they were. Sometimes she could even laugh at the notion that people saw it as a pity that she was smart rather than beautiful. Sometimes.

Lately, however, a handful of people seemed to have begun speculating whether she was truly a slag or 'just' a doormat who liked mean boys. It didn't help that they seemed to lean towards 'doormat', even though slag would probably have been worse. There was just something fundamental inside of Hermione that wanted to rebel against these speculations, but since there was no way she could really rebel it just… hurt.

She knew she had made her share of mistakes when it came to boys. She knew she had made _more_ than her share, actually. In fact, the last weeks were just a muddled blur of things she should have done differently or shouldn't have done at all. But she had neither been anyone's slag nor doormat. She had just been confused, trying to figure things out.

Every time she heard someone talking, it cut a little deeper, and she became a little more depressed. She, who otherwise loved school, began counting down the days until she was able to leave. This depressed her even further.

It was with this in the back of her mind, steeling herself for the worst, that Hermione made her way to class Monday morning. She held no illusion that the weekend would have killed any talk or spawned something more interesting to talk about.

_"… snogged half the night…_"

_"… then what about…"_

_"… much better suited…"_

_"… on his lap…"_

_"… his father…"_

Hermione only caught very fragmented whispers, enough to deduce that she wasn't the one being talked about, before she was spotted and they suddenly quieted or began talking about Quidditch or homework. She frowned. It _couldn't_ have been about her—she certainly hadn't snogged anyone for half the night in recent memory.

Well, ok, but nothing they knew about, anyway.

Still, it felt really strange that nobody seemed willing to discuss this with her nearby…

Deciding that she would find out eventually, she sat down and got ready for class.

* * *

Eventually, Hermione's patience paid off as gossip eventually found her in the shape of Ginny. Hermione had just sat down to lunch when the younger witch sat down next to her.

"Guess you're off the hook, huh?" Ginny said without much greeting, filling her plate with food.

"Guess so," Hermione agreed, not at all surprised that Ginny would know about Friday. Everyone knew.

"I'm a bit surprised, though," Ginny mused. "I didn't think he was one to move that… quickly." She frowned. "Or maybe he was. It's really hard to tell since he always had a girlfriend."

"Hm?" Hermione wasn't entirely following.

"Malfoy," Ginny said, glancing at Hermione. "You know with the whole stunt he pulled this weekend?"

"Can't say I do know," Hermione pleasantly said, taking another bite of her food and chewing it carefully before swallowing. "But it must have been good if it's him they're talking about."

Ginny shrugged. "Run-of-the-mill, really. He just snogged some girl. Only, people are a bit surprised with the… you know… everything that's been going on, and the pureblood arses are pleased that he finally seems to focus on someone with the right blood and background."

Hermione coughed as discreetly as she could to dislodge the bit of carrot that had somehow gotten stuck in her throat. "What?" she croaked, once she was fairly sure she could breathe again.

"Personally, I don't think he's doing himself any favors by taking a leaf from Zabini's book and spreading his interests around," Ginny continued, seemingly without noticing. "I mean, it's only been something like a month since he broke up with his long-time girlfriend, then he showed some weird interest in you, and now it's all about Greengrass."

"Greengrass?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "_Daphne_ Greengrass?"

Ginny blinked. "What? Oh. No. The other one. Her sister. Astoria. She's fifth year."

"_Fifth_ year?" Hermione's eyes were widening.

Ginny was looking confused. "It's not that uncommon, Hermione."

"Of course not," Hermione muttered, frowning. Ginny was right. The girl would be fifteen or sixteen, well within the dating range of a seventeen-year-old boy.

She couldn't help but raise her head and scan the Slytherin table as if she'd be able to tell who it was. Her eyes stopped at Draco, who had his head in his hands and looked like he had a bad headache.

"Malfoy doesn't look too happy," Ginny observed at the same time.

Hermione tilted her head. "No, he really doesn't. Which one is she?"

"Brunette," Ginny muttered, nodding in the general direction of at least ten brunettes.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You have to be more specific than that."

"See that mean-looking bloke? Third from his right."

'Mean-looking blokes' weren't exactly a rarity in Slytherin, either, but Hermione managed to pinpoint the one Ginny had been referring to and from there located the girl that Malfoy had allegedly decided to pursue next.

She was pretty, Hermione supposed. Her hair was long and looked soft, and she looked like she had a pleasant figure under her school robes. She was very animatedly talking to someone, her eyes glittering with excitement, and it looked like she might actually have a personality.

She wasn't exactly the way Hermione had pictured her. Or, rather, how she _would_ have pictured her, given the time to consider this. As she was looking at the girl, she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment in Draco. In spite of everything he had done to her, he had always seemed to respect Parkinson, but now he was with some other girl less than a week after Pansy had spent several nights sleeping in his bed, doing whatever it took to comfort him and help him through his magical addiction.

Given their past relationship, Hermione didn't even want to imagine what that entailed. In fact, just the thought made her slightly nauseous and she lost her appetite.

How could he just turn around and be with some girl that nobody had ever connected to him after that? How could he be such a faithless bastard? Perhaps his inclinations towards Hermione hadn't had anything to do with magic bonds either, maybe he was just like Zabini but better at playing people.

Hermione's eyes swept back towards Draco of their own accord and a shock went through her as she met his gaze. He was steadily watching her watch Astoria. It was impossible for her to prevent the slight blush at being caught and she awkwardly looked away.

"Well, at least that takes care of my problem no matter what prompted it," she muttered unconvincingly, half to herself and half to Ginny. "What about yours? Did you take care of that yet?"

Ginny sighed, looking uncomfortable at the new subject. But then again, who wouldn't be uncomfortable at the mention of telling your boyfriend about your ex-lover? "I will," she quietly replied. "After the holidays. If I tell him now and things go wrong, it would be so horribly awkward between us and it would be unbearable to be home and have to pretend we weren't fighting..."

Ginny actually had a good point. Molly Weasley was a force of nature, and she definitely would make her opinion on the matter known if she found out that something wasn't right between Harry and Ginny. She wasn't exactly known for her subtlety.

"Are you coming for Christmas this year?" Ginny asked, unsubtly changing the subject. "I mean, I assumed you were, but it doesn't seem like you and Ron are doing much better…"

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't know if he'd mind, so I was planning on going home."

"Of course _he_ wouldn't mind!" Ginny objected. "It's more if _you'd_ mind, being surrounded by his family all this time."

"Don't be silly," Hermione muttered.

"So, you're coming?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe after a week or so. I already told my parents I'm coming home."

"Fair enough." Ginny smiled, genuinely pleased.

* * *

Draco was having a bad day. No, he was having a truly _horrible_ day.

His hasty, poorly conceived plan was working.

He should be pleased that he hadn't underestimated people and their shallow gossip, but he wasn't. He should be happy that Hermione seemed to have heard and believed it all, but he _really_ wasn't. Maybe if she'd shown a bit more emotion, he would have felt a bit more gratified. In fact, he would have given just about anything to have seen more than confusion and curiosity on her face. He thought he had caught a brief flash of censure, but… maybe he hadn't. And if he had, it probably didn't mean what he wanted it to.

It wasn't fair. He was feeling torn up inside from what he'd done and she felt _nothing_. He felt an immediate urge to go to her, to make her listen, to tell her that what he had done had meant nothing, that it had been to make her life easier. That he still wanted no one but her.

But what good would it do when she didn't care? She would just be on his case to get over it.

It wasn't as if he didn't try. He'd even tried to enjoy himself at the party. Ultimately, it hadn't really been that bad—the girl was kind of cute after all—but he hadn't truly enjoyed himself, and the next day this irrational remorse had begun.

He didn't really understand this feeling. He had never ever cheated on Pansy, but there had been the summer where she'd suggested they see others and he'd actually seen someone. He hadn't felt guilty then. He'd sort of known that Pansy had only suggested this, hoping that he'd find that he preferred her, but he'd still liked the freedom. At least until he'd found out that the witch hadn't liked him half as well as his money. It had stung and he'd been happy to return to someone who cared about him, even if he wasn't in love with her.

He kept staring at Hermione, willing her to show some other emotion than embarrassment that he'd caught her sizing up the girl he'd been with. She just pushed her food around while talking to the Weasley girl and refused to look up again.

"I figured out why you've been avoiding me," Blaise said, heavily sitting down next to Draco and hurriedly grabbing whichever food was nearest.

Draco briefly closed his eyes. Indeed, he hadn't felt like being the one who had to share this. "Good," he replied, "then you'll know I want you to shut up about it."

Blaise shrugged. "You shouldn't be so glum about it. It's a good thing, isn't it? You're moved on and the girl you chose is cute."

Draco's insides twisted. He glanced at Blaise. "What the hell is that thing you're wearing?"

Blaise made a flourish, showcasing his threadbare robes. "School robes, adhering to the Hogwarts standards."

"I didn't even know you owned such rags."

Blaise grinned. "It's a bit short too. I just hadn't gotten around to tossing it." Draco stared and eventually Blaise's grin faltered and he shrugged. "I'll most likely be getting blood on it, won't I? No need to ruin my good robes."

Draco had forgotten all about Blaise's 'date' to get his face rearranged by Tracey's boyfriend for allegedly forcing her to kiss him. "It's insane," he growled. "You're just going to let him have a go at you?"

Blaise shrugged again. "One good swing, that's all he gets."

"And what if he hexes you instead?" Draco asked.

"Hmm," Blaise mulled this over. "Then I might need some help getting to the hospital wing. Do me a favor, mate, and don't stray too far away from me today."

Draco groaned. Insane bastard.

He groaned even louder when Pansy slipped into a seat across from him. Hadn't he suffered enough already without adding his ex-girlfriend to the mix?

Apparently not.

"So, Astoria, huh?" she asked, looking curious.

"Huh?" he asked, not quite catching that.

"Astoria?" she ventured again.

He blinked and frowned trying to separate the syllables in his head. Nope, they didn't make any sense to him.

Pansy looked startled and then she suddenly giggled, hiding her mouth behind one hand. "Oh, my… You don't even know her name!"

Draco glanced at Blaise, who seemed to be in on the joke. "What's in a name, anyway," Blaise helpfully supplied. "It wasn't deep conversation Draco here was interested in from what I heard."

Slowly the mistake dawned on Draco. _Astoria. _A name. Of course he would be expected to know her name, but he just hadn't really… well, cared.

"_You_ snogged a girl all night without even knowing her name!" Pansy sniggered. Why she found this so amusing, Draco suspected he would never know. Still, it was better than her being jealous and upset, he supposed.

"I knew her name," he lamely lied. "I just didn't hear you over all the… chewing."

Both Pansy and Blaise cracked up. Draco rolled his eyes; trust them to treat his life as a joke. "How do you know her anyway?" he asked Pansy defensively.

"Friends with her sister, you dolt," she gasped, composing herself. "I see her all the time. Even lived with her for a few weeks this summer. She's nice enough. Never shuts up, though."

Great. Of all the girls he could have kissed, he had to choose one his ex knew intimately.

"She shut up well enough on Saturday," he murmured, making Blaise laugh again.

He was loath to admit it, but his friends' laughter actually took some of the sting out of the pain and disappointment, and he was feeling a little bit more human by the time he had to return to class.

* * *

**Draco turned and scowled at Theo in silence, completely convinced that this was Theo's way of tormenting him for the whole bracelet incident.**

**"Oh!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, getting their attention. "I… suddenly remember I need to be somewhere. Bye!"**

**Draco raised an eyebrow at her as she ducked her head and slipped past him. That was certainly not obvious at all. Her discomfort was understandable, though. He just hoped she had no inkling of what Theo was probably going to say now. "So, what is it this time?" he asked, sauntering over to a chair. "You disapprove of the way I do absolutely nothing?"**


	61. Chapter 61

**Time between updates naturally makes a story seem more drawn out. You all already knew the pacing of this piece and rushing the action now would just make sure that once it's done, people wouldn't be able to read it without thinking "boy, that sure begins to get rushed around that time, it sort of ruins the feel of it." I don't know what else to say to that. Just know that if that is your complaint, I already heard it. Repeating it will be redundant.  
**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

"What the hell is keeping him?" Blaise growled.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. Was Blaise actually looking _forward_ to getting his arse pummeled by a jealous boyfriend? "Maybe he just doesn't believe in violence," he suggested.

Classes were out and Blaise had decided to dawdle, leaving Draco no choice but to dawdle with him.

Blaise snorted. "I don't have all day," he continued his whine. "Maybe I should just go find him instead."

"And do what? Poke his shoulder and say 'hey, where's my punch for snogging your girlfriend'?"

"Hey, here he comes!"

Draco turned around to see that Blaise was right. He sighed and leaned against the wall, resigning himself to the fact that his friend was an idiot and deserved whatever he had coming. Blaise straightened, giving the oncoming boy his haughtiest look and most condescending smirk.

This time Draco did roll his eyes.

And then… nothing. Tracey's boyfriend scowled at Blaise, but kept on moving without a single word or hostile movement. Blaise looked so nonplussed that Draco couldn't hold back a snigger.

Blaise frowned. "What the hell is _wrong_ with him?"

He whirled around, apparently intent on following the other bloke, when Draco pushed away from the wall, effectively getting in his way. "Let it go, mate. He just didn't feel like picking a fight. He probably didn't buy the story."

"Or maybe he doesn't care. He should get beat just for that," Blaise snarled.

Draco wearily rubbed his eyes. He really hoped that _he_ wasn't such an idiot when it came to girls. He deliberately ignored the very recent memory of breaking Terry Boot's nose for badmouthing Hermione. "Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe Davis thought up a better story."

Blaise pouted but relented a bit. "Why would she do that?" he asked a bit petulantly. "This is what she wants. She wants me to suffer and she doesn't believe I already do. Why would she miss an opportunity like this?"

Draco shook his head. "So that's why, is it? You want him to beat you up because you think she'll like that? That's fucked up."

"Like you wouldn't do the same."

"And everyone knows how I'm _not_ extremely fucked up. Besides, it won't make her happy. You should know her better than that."

"So you think I should just do the other thing that makes her happy—leave her completely alone? Do you have any idea how entirely impossible that is? I already tried that, I can't do it."

"It's really very simple," Draco calmly answered, choosing his words carefully. "Either you go all out to get her _and_ keep her in a way that she can be happy with—this includes crossing your mother, possibly being disinherited, and facing blood prejudices from people who used to be your friends—or you leave her alone. Anything else is just plain selfish."

"I'm a selfish person, Draco."

"Well, then it's not _her_ happiness we're talking about, is it? You just continue to make her miserable, then, if it makes you feel better."

Blaise looked stunned and Draco shrugged and walked away. It wasn't terribly nice of him to talk to his friend like that, he knew, but he couldn't be easier on him than he was on himself. Sometimes you just couldn't get what you wanted. It was a lesson it had taken him seventeen years to learn.

* * *

If Draco had been under the impression that his day couldn't get much more depressing, he was soon proven wrong. He was just dropping by the Heads' office to leave a note for a requested change of the schedule of rounds, when he found the room to be occupied.

He cringed and looked away from the embracing couple at the familiar feeling of all the air leaving his lungs while his chest ached rather painfully. He knew he'd better get used to it, but it was a bit difficult when they took him by surprise like this. He was about to leave them to it when he was called back.

Leave it to Theo to never miss a thing.

"Draco," the other boy pleasantly said. "Was there something you wanted?"

Hermione swirled around, blushing furiously at being caught snogging. Really, after everything, why would something this simple embarrass her?

"It was nothing important," Draco muttered. "Didn't know you'd be here. I'll come back later."

"No, wait!" Theo stopped him again. "I need to talk to you."

Oh, by everything that was sacred! No more _talks_! "I'm sure that can wait as well," he replied a bit more frostily than was perhaps called for.

"I would prefer it if it didn't," Theo replied.

Draco turned and scowled at Theo in silence, completely convinced that this was Theo's way of tormenting him for the whole bracelet incident.

"Oh!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, getting their attention. "I… suddenly remember I need to be somewhere. Bye!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her as she ducked her head and slipped past him. That was certainly not obvious at all. Her discomfort was understandable, though. He just hoped she had no inkling of what Theo was probably going to say now. "So, what is it this time?" he asked, sauntering over to a chair. "You disapprove of the way I do absolutely nothing?"

Theo almost smiled. "I wouldn't put it quite like that."

"Then how would you put it?" Draco flopped down and resigned himself to another exhausting lecture.

"It is about you doing nothing and me needing you to do something… but not in the area you think."

So, it wasn't about Hermione, then? That was a refreshing change. "I can't do anything more than I'm already doing. If it's about my Deputy duties, I'm already spending as much time on them as I can."

"It's about our house, Draco." Theo sat down across from him. "They are slowly but surely spinning out of control. You used to catalyze the malice into organized pranks, but when you stopped I had to try and keep them in line my way, which is less effective, and now that it's slowly becoming public knowledge that I'm dating a Muggleborn…"

So, Theo and Hermione were really dating then? Of course they were. But they hadn't been just a few days ago, had they? Draco shook his head to clear it. _Focus._ "I don't know what you expect me to do," he replied.

"Well, you seem to want to redeem yourself in their eyes. It would help everyone immensely if you would go back to your past behavior. With some modifications, of course."

"Yeah, there's only one slight problem with that," Draco said, leaning forward as if imparting a secret. "I don't bloody want to. The pranks got tired a long time ago. Get someone else to do it."

Theo sighed and leaned back. "That's the problem—there is nobody else. Blaise refuses to have anything to do with this and sixth year only has one person with half a brain, and he's not going to risk the brawns of the rest. I'm not sure anyone younger will be able to curb the rest at this point."

"Then do nothing. Leave it to the professors." Draco shrugged, unable to see why this was their problem.

"They are severely distracted," Theo tiredly said. "You-Know-Who is wreaking havoc all over Europe and they don't need to add playground bullies to their list of worries right now. It seems like Crabbe is trying to prove himself a leader and in the process they're coming closer and closer to actually hurting someone."

"Still not our problem, mate," Draco said. "We can't be expected to manage this ourselves. I certainly don't intend to."

"Three of them had a fourth year Muggleborn girl cornered just yesterday when I came upon them. She was wandless and frightened and they were taking great pleasure in taunting her."

"So, report them."

"I did!" Theo was looking annoyed now. "But wouldn't it be nice if these things just didn't happen?"

"I keep telling you, it's not our responsibility to make sure it doesn't!"

"What if it were Hermione?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. So much for keeping her out of just one of their conversations. "Granger can take care of herself."

"You helped her out before," Theo pointed out.

"And I don't intend to anymore." Draco was sick and tired of not getting credit for all he was doing to stay out of their way. Wasn't anything good enough?

"Really?"

"Really."

"So, if you come across Hermione defenseless and completely at the mercy at someone who would love to see her dead, or at the very least badly hurt, you will do nothing?"

Draco groaned and fell back. "Don't be absurd."

"Well, isn't that what you said?"

"I'd lose my position if I didn't do anything."

Theo shook his head, half in amusement, half in exasperation. "You're talking in circles, Draco."

"Fine, then let me be straight about it: I don't intend to help her out _especially_, same as I don't intend to play Muggle-protector unless I absolutely have to. Now drop this, please."

Theo didn't let go entirely. "But you still refuse to help with our house situation?"

"Sorry. It's just not who I am anymore."

"And just who are you these days?"

"Someone who is really, really tired of having to justify himself to you."

As he made his dramatic exit, Draco couldn't help but wonder at Theo's question. Who _was_ he these days?

* * *

The brave Gryffindor made her hasty retreat and didn't stop until she was well away from the office. That had been strange beyond words. She didn't even mean the tension between Theo and Malfoy, because that had been there for a while now, but… the whole thing.

She was so confused.

Theo kissing her had seemed to be the climax of a very long dancing around the issue and it had been nice, but she hadn't been able to just relax and let go. Granted, she never had been able to do that without some sort of coercion, but she had wanted to let go, to lose herself completely.

Hermione had been so intent on her purpose that she hadn't even noticed when Malfoy had entered and being so used to him knowing exactly what she felt, she had felt caught and had probably given everything away with that stupid blush.

She was just fortunate that he didn't really seem to care anymore. Not many days ago, he would have mocked her blush with a condescending look and a smirk, but today he hadn't really reacted at all, except to try to leave. It must mean the effects were finally wearing off. She was glad.

And confused. She had thought it would be a bit more gradual than this. Not that it was a bad thing. It was a very, very good thing. Now there was nothing keeping her from Theo, and nobody was unhappy. Everything was neatly wrapped up now. Happy ending… right?

She frowned. Something was off.

* * *

The funny thing about pain is that when you're exposed to it long enough, you stop noticing it, and eventually you just grow numb. Apart from the occasional pang, Draco found that he was coping fairly well. He was actually sort of proud of how well he was coping, everything considered.

Blaise was mad at him. Draco was sorry about that, but he wasn't sorry about telling his friend the truth as he saw it. Blaise really did need to either shape up or back down. At least there was a possibility that he might get what he wanted if he shaped up. Draco would have liked to have that choice himself. He would like to think that he wouldn't have wasted it the way that Blaise did.

But, of course, nobody would ever know.

"Hey!"

Draco frowned as someone got in his way when he was on his way from class to the dungeons. His frown turned into a weary sigh when he noticed who it was.

"Just the kind of reception any girl wants!" the girl cheerily said.

"Look, um, Astoria, was it? I don't know what you think, but I really don't have a lot to talk to you about, so if you'd just…"

"Wow, you truly are a ladies' man, aren't you? No wonder you have it so easy with the girls!"

Draco clenched his teeth and glared at her. He realized that he wasn't really fair to her, but he couldn't help the disgust he was feeling with himself when he thought about how he'd used her to throw Hermione and everyone else off the scent. "What _do_ you want?"

"I was going to propose a deal, but you'll really have to be nicer to me for it to work."

"What kind of deal?"

She studied him for a few seconds before replying. "I'm reasonably popular and, more importantly, of the right pedigree. Pretend to date me and before long people will completely forget your infatuation with Granger and your name will be restored."

What a strange proposal, one that instantly made him suspicious. "Provided I were interested in that, what would you get from it?"

She smiled a bit wryly. "The social standing would go both ways. With your name restored, you'll be one of the very few really good matches left since Nott goes with Granger and Zabini… well, apart from acting strange lately, we all know that it isn't a girlfriend he's looking for."

Draco pursed his lips. "I thought you said you were popular, why do you need me?"

Astoria scowled and shrugged. "There are a few bi—um, witches in my year that I'd like to set straight about a few things… They're always bragging about their 'boyfriends' at Durmstrang. Glorified penfriends, really, if you ask me, but it's hard to get them back without leverage. You could be leverage. You're certainly better than some penfriend."

"So, you want to use my name to win some petty teenage witch squabble. Charming."

She smiled. "Well, it would also make me more interesting to other prospects later. Provided you let me be the one to break up once we've achieved our goals, of course. It's not like you need anything to look more interesting. You just need to be nicer."

"Why would you want to look _more interesting_ as you call it?" Draco couldn't help but ask. If anything, he was wishing that this girl would be a little less interesting. His head was spinning—and not in a good way.

"Mother wants us—my sister and me—to marry as soon after finishing school as possible. I want to make sure that I at least have as many prospects as possible so I don't end up sharing my marriage bed with some fat old wizard."

"Ew," Draco muttered.

"Yeah, and I am neither the prettiest nor the smartest witch that will be on the market, so I need something else to set me apart, and _you_ need something to help redeem you and possibly convince Nott that you aren't a threat to his relationship."

As if Theo didn't already know that. "Look, as clever as your little plan is, I'm really not that interested in any _redemption_ as far as those people go."

"You're still looking at her, you know. I've been watching you, and you look at her when you think nobody notices."

Draco stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about and even if I did, where I look is my own business."

"Somebody else will notice. They will realize that you choose to stay single and that you still look at her with that wistful expression on your face…"

"What is it you want from me?" Draco interrupted, a sick feeling spreading in his stomach at the thought of Hermione realizing that he still wanted her. She would pity him. He couldn't deal with her pity just now.

"I want you to agree to this," Astoria calmly replied.

"So, you're blackmailing me. You're going to tell people that I still want her unless I pretend to be your boyfriend. Is that it?" He wasn't even trying to hide his anger. He had fought too hard to get where he currently was at, she couldn't just ruin it now!

Astoria's blue eyes widened with an innocence that he didn't trust. "Not at all! I won't have to tell anyone anything. You'll give yourself away before long."

"And how will that be any different with this charade?"

"They won't look for it. They will assume that you are completely recovered. Don't underestimate the power of assumption."

"You really have this whole thing figured out, don't you?"

"Of course! So… will you do it?"

Draco just stared at her for a long moment. A pretend-girlfriend. _Could_ he do it?

* * *

**Draco plonked down in a chair across from her. "So, I was thinking…"**

**"Did you hurt yourself?"**

**He rolled his eyes. "Really, Granger, you need some new material."**

**"But the old material fits so well!"**

**"_I was thinking_," he repeated, ignoring her, "that there was a misconception that I probably should correct."**

**"What? Just the one?" she drily asked.**


	62. Chapter 62

**Zzzzz...**

* * *

"So… You're really going out with Theodore Nott, then?" Harry wrinkled his nose and Hermione had to roll her eyes.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with Theo," she pointed out.

The last day of school before the Christmas holidays was at an end and they were all packed and were just lounging in the common room.

"He's weird."

"He's not weird!"

"Yeah, he is!" Harry was grinning now. "He's really, really odd."

"Well, how fortunate for you that _you_ don't have to date him, then!"

"Aw, don't be mad," Harry said, looking anything but contrite. "I'm sure he has nice… brains… and other qualities. I just sort of thought you'd end up with Ron once all this was sorted out."

"That would have been neat, wouldn't it?" Hermione muttered.

"It would," Harry agreed. "Sort of. But I think that he actually might be sort of almost together with Lavender again now."

Hermione frowned. "_Lavender_? I thought she annoyed the heck out of him."

"Oh, she did. And I don't think it's exactly love this time, either." Harry shook his head. "I suppose it doesn't have to be. Why be alone if you don't have to, you know?"

Hermione didn't really know what to reply to this. She was glad Ron was moving on, but she just had a difficult time understanding why he'd just be with someone he didn't even seemed to like very much instead of trying to find someone he might like. "But… I don't see why he's risking another one of her Christmas presents," she muttered.

Harry burst out laughing. "He probably told her not to get him anything."

"Or maybe he gave her a crash course in taste."

"Who, _Ron_?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You're right. My mistake," Hermione drily replied.

Harry laughed again. "We're being mean."

"Yeah, but mean is fun."

He shook his head. "You're really spending much too time with Slytherins."

Hermione blinked and frowned. "Do you really mean that?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer. She would just hate to turn into Malfoy.

"No, of course not," Harry replied, grinning. He really did have the most obnoxiously good Christmas spirits this year. "Besides, I started it, didn't I?" he asked.

He was right. She was being silly. Her frown deepened. Why was she being so silly, putting too much meaning into a joke, and more importantly, why was she giving it so much thought _now_?

"Hermione?" Harry ventured. "You think too much. Stop it."

"I know," she murmured.

The funny thing was she knew that there were things that she probably ought to think about that she firmly kept blocked from her mind. It was just too much for her to deal with just now. Joking around with a friend was infinitely more preferable.

* * *

"The library. Right. Where else would one want to spend one's Saturday morning and last hours before going home? It makes perfect sense. You know, this place is actually _closed_."

Hermione scowled at her blond nuisance. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Of course, I don't know why I even bother being surprised since this _was_ the first place I looked for you, so something suggests that perhaps you're predictable enough for people to know exactly where you'll be. That has to be sort of depressing."

"Malfoy!"

He plonked down in a chair across from her. "So, I was thinking…"

"Did you hurt yourself?"

He rolled his eyes. "Really, Granger, you need some new material."

"But the old material fits so well!"

"_I was thinking_," he repeated, ignoring her, "that there was a misconception that I probably should correct."

"What? Just the one?" she drily asked.

He scowled. "That I will correct, yes. And this would go so much faster if you wouldn't interrupt all the time."

"Oh, I wasn't sure there was a point to this at all."

Again, he ignored her and leaned forwards. "You think that I'll be using the bracelet again, don't you?"

This momentarily shocked Hermione into silence, but he waited her out until she had to reply. "I'm sure I never thought of it, much less care to know."

Draco snorted. "Right. You threw it in my face often enough. Well, I won't."

"Good." She returned to her book.

"You don't believe me."

"Methinks thou doth protest too much."

"I didn't think you would." This fact seemed to annoy him a little. Hermione found that annoying Malfoy was very pleasing to her indeed.

"Then why bother?" she asked, wondering what his agenda was.

"I can convince you."

"Why?"

He didn't reply but just reached down into the schoolbag she hadn't noticed him wearing and placed a box on the table. She immediately recognized it as the one that contained the ring and bracelet when she'd first seen it.

"What do you plan to do with that?" She was warily cringing away from him, unable to help herself.

He looked up at her, his gaze very intense. "Absolutely nothing. Merry Christmas." He got up and began walking away.

Hermione frowned and reached out to flip the lid open. There it was: the jewelry that had pretty much been the bane of her existence. She shook her head. "I thought you said they were worth a fortune," she called after him.

"They are," he called back without turning around or stopping. "I know a wizard down in Knockturn Alley if you plan on selling…"

She stared after him. If _she_ planned on _selling_? Her gaze shifted back to the box. Wasn't he broke? And he'd never answered _why_ he needed to convince her that he wouldn't use it again.

* * *

Draco managed to get a clean getaway by deliberately going in the opposite direction of the dungeons before doubling back down another corridor. She would get over her surprise and then try to follow him to badger him about _why_ he had given up the bracelet. Never mind that the Hogwarts Express would leave for London very soon and she needed to be on it.

Why indeed. He doubted she wanted to know the answer.

He'd spent several nights since the end of the bet, staring at the jewelry, imagining putting it on someone else. Anyone else. He'd thought of trying it on Pansy and later Astoria and even a few girls he hardly knew.

The result was always the same.

He couldn't. He had a very powerful physical reaction when just thinking about it. Once he'd put the bracelet in his pocket, just intending to ask Pansy to wear it for five minutes, and as soon as he'd seen her, he'd become so violently sick that he'd actually retched and he'd just barely managed to drag himself back to his room without anyone asking him any questions he couldn't answer.

The next step had been asking his mother about the bracelet and its magic, which was tricky in itself, since he didn't know who actually read their correspondence. He truly wouldn't put it past the Order to read his letters, trying to get to his father. He somehow managed to be obscure enough without being _too_ obscure, though, and get the message through to his mother.

When she had finally replied, the answer hadn't been very encouraging.

Naturally, she wondered why he would want to know, but other than that—nobody had ever used the bracelet on more than one witch.

Not ever.

Even if the first wife died, there were no records of anyone even trying to use it a second time. The magic was too strong, too intense, and nobody ever wanted to be _that_ intimate with more than one person, even if the first use was unsuccessful in sparking any lasting emotions.

And even should they want to, they weren't able to. Nobody knew why anymore, but the magic wouldn't allow for it to happen. He could kill himself trying.

Basically, he was screwed.

He did gather that he hadn't exactly somehow irreversibly bound himself to Hermione—which was a huge relief—but there didn't seem to be any way for him ever to get that mentally close to another person again.

So he was left craving her.

And she had never even really felt the closeness.

At least now that he had given her the cursed things, she would maybe stop giving him that suspicious look. He had noticed how she would glance at his ring finger, suspecting the right thing for the wrong reasons. He didn't want a girl to boss around—he wanted to feel close, connected.

She would never really understand. Not unless she tried wearing the ring herself, and he highly doubted she ever would.

He was almost back to the dungeons, when he heard Blaise's voice coming from a side corridor. Feeling a bit curious about what his friend was up to, he decided to find out.

"Let me go, I'm going to miss the train!"

Ah. Angry female voice must belong to Tracey. Edging a bit closer and peeking around a corner proved him right. This couldn't be good.

"You have plenty of time to get to the train. What did you tell him?"

Draco inaudibly sighed. It seemed Blaise had decided to ignore his advice about letting it go. He should leave and let them fight in privacy… but he didn't. He found himself really needing to know how bad his friend would be off, and since said friend currently wasn't talking to him…

"It's none of your business what I tell my boyfriend, Zabini."

Draco couldn't help but marvel a bit at just how feisty Tracey had turned lately. She'd always blended in with the wallpaper before as far as he was concerned. Of course, being dogged by someone as thickskulled as Blaise could probably drive anyone mad.

"Yeah? I heard you broke up!"

"Well, of course we broke up, you idiot!" she hissed. "I snogged some other bloke, you really think he was going to just accept that?"

Blaise grabbed Tracey's arm. "I told you to lie!" he growled. "Why are you doing this? Is it some roundabout way to get back at me? You won't be with me and you won't be happy without me either?"

She yanked her arm free. "I don't have to do anything you tell me to do, and not everything is about you, Mr. Ego. I know it might be hard for you to understand, but some of us don't want relationships based on _lies_."

"I never lied to you!"

Tracey looked as if she'd been slapped, but quickly recovered enough to say, "No, you didn't, did you? So much worse the fool I was. I took kisses for promises."

"Tracey…"

"No. You leave me alone. Stop following me around. Stop messing with my head. _Stop_ trying to interfere with my relationships. We're done."

"We're _not_ done!" Blaise insisted. "I made a huge mistake, I know, but why can't you just try to forgive me? I lo—"

"_NO!_" she yelled loud enough to stop Blaise and make Draco blink. "Don't you dare go there! If you really cared about me, you wouldn't want to… to just have some sordid little affair, hoping your mother didn't find out. What happens when we leave school? Hm?"

Tears were shimmering in her eyes, threatening to overflow. Draco felt a tug of sympathy for her. Blaise really was an arse these days.

"You buy some secret little cottage and put me there to be your dirty little secret?" she asked, not giving Blaise time to answer. "While your mother presents you with nice pureblood future marriage prospects? Did you even _think_ about where this would lead? Did you even consider the fact that it would only get worse? That in a year or two walking away would be harder?"

Blaise looked dejected. "I don't want to lose you," he quietly said. "Tell me what I need to do to stop that from happening."

"You already lost me," she replied. "You just didn't let go."

"No!" He violently shook his head. "There has to be a way!"

She slowly shook her head. "No, Blaise. There isn't. I was stupid enough to think there might be once, but you were right to keep it casual. It couldn't work. I was the one who shouldn't have thought it was more than it was. I just never thought that far back then. It was really, really stupid. You can blame it on a teenage witch that was too dumb to tell sex from love. I know now that we couldn't be together, even if it had been more. You'd lose all your friends, and your mother would make your life hell."

"Then so be it. We'll find a way, we could run and—"

"No. It's not worth it."

"But I love you."

She smiled a little sadly. "No, you don't."

"I do! I never meant those things I said about blood and all that other crap… You know I didn't. The kisses _were_ promises. I would have figured my feelings for you out eventually and we would have—"

She shook her head again. "No, Blaise. You wouldn't have figured it out. There was nothing to figure out. You would have gotten tired of sleeping with me and dumped me. Just like you did with every girl before me. You just think it's love because you weren't done with me and it's driving you crazy."

"Tracey…"

"I really have to make my train now."

She walked away without a backward glance, leaving Blaise looking lost and crushed. Draco thought that now was probably a good time to disappear, but before he had taken two steps, Blaise rounded the corner.

"So you heard, huh?" was all the other boy said. His lack of reaction astonishing.

"Kind of hard not to," Draco awkwardly replied.

"Good. Then I don't need to explain. Dumbledore is kind of busy these days, but you have sort of special status. Could you get me a meeting with him?"

Draco frowned in confusion. "I'm not sure I could do that. Why…?"

"I'm going to run and I'm hoping this… Order of the Phoenix will help me hide from my mother. They help against any dark wizards and witches, right? You know what my mother is like, the minute she finds out I'm not going to fulfill her plans and give her a pureblood heir, I become dispensable."

Becoming dispensable around Blaise's mother had a tendency to be fatal—although there was never any evidence to implicate the beautiful witch. There was a silence as Draco took that in. "Run with Tracey?" he then asked.

Blaise's face fell and he shook his head. "You heard her. She doesn't want to. It would probably be a miserable life for her anyway, losing contact with her friends and family just to be with me. I… She doesn't believe me and even if she did, I don't think she's really in love with me anymore. I hurt her too badly."

"Then why are you going to do it?" Draco quietly asked.

"Because, if Tracey ever changes her mind, I want to be able to offer her more than some… _sordid affair_. If I ever find another girl that I feel this way about again, I want to be able to just be with her. Being free to sleep around but not be with the one that I want _blows_. I want to be free."

"Running doesn't make you free."

"What do you suggest I do then?" Blaise sharply asked. "Commit matricide? I can't do that!"

Draco thought about this for a second. "You could hide for a _while_ and supply the Ministry with some of the information they need to put her in Azkaban. She can't hurt you from there." Even as he said it, he didn't really believe it was an option. People had often enough tried to make him turn in his own father. Still, Blaise's mother was different. She redefined cold.

"She's my _mother_."

"Didn't she kill your father?"

Blaise sighed and shrugged. "I don't know, actually. She claims she didn't. That he had a spell backfire on him. The evidence supports her story."

"Yeah, but didn't it happen after he filed for divorce?"

Blaise shook his head. "Coincidences do happen, Draco."

"She had _seven_ coincidences like this," Draco pointed out, "each one making her richer."

Blaise looked away. "I know. And don't get me wrong, I absolutely hate her and I don't trust her not to try and hurt me or Tracey, but…"

"She's your mother."

"Yeah."

Draco felt another surge of bitterness against those who thought theirs should be an easy choice. Do what's right—sell out your family and be completely alone. He didn't show his thoughts, though, but just shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll see what I can do about a meeting."

"Thanks, mate," Blaise muttered.

They were such a happy lot these days.

* * *

**"Besides," Astoria said, moving a little closer. "Maybe you'll get lucky and she'll get jealous."**

**He snorted a laugh at that highly unlikely scenario. "You're one manipulative little witch, you know that?"**

**"Yes, of course. I _really_ want you to agree to this and I'll do what it takes."**

**"You'll do _anything_ to see it happen?" he drily asked.**

**"Well…" she murmured, taking another step closer.**


	63. Chapter 63

**Due in five days. Just saying. Of course, he may not arrive on schedule, but just a gentle reminder that, yeah, I'm close. And I wonder how many update their fics five days before they're due to give birth. ;) Of course, it would be even more fun if this note wrote "MY WATER JUST BROKE!" but, alas, it didn't. XD**

**Just a note on the characterizations: I understand that some of you don't like some of Hermione's reactions and that's your prerogative, but I'd appreciate a little less bashing of her in the reviews. She's a confused 18-year-old girl. If this is as bad as she gets, I personally consider her quite one of the most reasonable teenage girls I ever met. XD It doesn't mean she's not annoying but -- and I'm risking the ire of many of you by saying this -- teenage girls _really_ often are. We get over it. Eventually. Sometimes. ;)**

* * *

They were back.

Draco stood semi-hidden in the shadows to the dungeon entrance and watched the students pour in through the main entrance, most of them eagerly chattering about their holidays.

His holidays had been long and very, very quiet. The school was such an eerie place when there was only a handful of students left and he had hated every second of being there, but limiting the traffic to his mother's hiding place had been his priority. Limit the chances that You-Know-Who somehow found her and punished her for defecting. Who cared about celebrating one stupid Christmas compared to that?

But he really wasn't happy that everyone was back. He was happy that one particular person was back. It didn't matter how much he groaned at his own stupidity, rolled his eyes and kicked himself, he just couldn't help it. He needed to just see her. Just for a second. Then he would go back to the dungeons and she wouldn't even know.

He hated this. He hated being so pathetically needy. He wanted to be free of her. Two weeks without her presence had truly shown him how bad it had become. Not a day had gone by without him wondering what she'd been doing and if she thought about him at all.

Of course, he _had_ been dreadfully bored, but still… Was it too much to ask to just be able to forget about her if only for a few days at a time?

When she entered, it was like a punch to his gut. Damn it. He had hoped that he would realize that he'd somehow overplayed the whole thing in his head. He hadn't. He saw her and immediately everything inside of him reacted. He didn't understand how this could be. Sure, she was attractive enough, but there were prettier girls. There were _nicer_ girls.

But no one else like her.

He had long since decided that he must be a masochist.

"I can take a guess why you're here," Blaise said, coming up behind him.

"And I know why you're here," Draco muttered. "Let's not make a big deal out of it."

Blaise didn't reply but just leaned against the opposite wall and gazed at the entrance hall. He had spoken with Dumbledore and other Order members over the holidays. He would be staying at Hogwarts until he finished school, and then he would leave for an undisclosed location. He wasn't likely to ever see his mother again. And, depending on how much of a threat they felt she posed, he wouldn't be able to keep much in contact with anyone else.

So, come June, Draco would lose the privilege of lurking in the shadows to catch glimpses of a certain brown-eyed girl _and_ he would lose the only person he could really count as a friend these days.

"Do you think Tracey will care if I tell her?" Blaise asked, sounding a bit wistful.

"I don't know," Draco truthfully replied. "Maybe she will."

Blaise sighed. "She'd care. She'd be pleased. But she wouldn't come with me. I don't know why the fuck I do this to myself." He turned to go. "Are you coming, Draco?"

"In a second," Draco muttered, unwilling to leave before Hermione had disappeared up the stairs.

Yes, he was pathetic, but so what? Soon enough he wouldn't even have that.

"Draco!"

Oh, no. Draco cringed at the loud exclamation from the younger girl. He didn't dare look in Hermione's direction again for fear she had heard and noticed that it was her he was looking at.

"Astoria," he said with a sigh.

"Always making a girl feel welcome. You promised me you'd have a reply by now."

He wearily rubbed his forehead. He'd sort of hoped she would have forgotten her silly pretend-dating scheme. "Look," he quietly said. "I'm not sure the benefits would be as great as you claim…"

She snorted. "So you aren't here to moon over… someone you can't have, then?"

He appreciated her not putting a name to his obsession with this many people around. "Nobody noticed me before."

"I noticed you," she pointed out. "And, look, if you really don't want to, it's fine. I just don't think you considered the additional benefits."

"Which are..?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I know why you were with Pansy for so long," she replied in a voice so low he had to strain to hear her. "You were never in love with her, were you? You just liked having someone—anyone—who would be there when you needed to reach out and touch someone. You broke it off because you were hurting her and you actually cared. I know what you're about and I don't care that you don't care about me. You won't hurt me. I can be there in whatever capacity you need."

Draco drew back, feeling more than a little shocked. That wasn't why he'd been with Pansy! Was it? He frowned. And what exactly was this chit proposing they _do_ together?

"Besides," Astoria said, moving a little closer. "Maybe you'll get lucky and she'll get jealous."

He snorted a laugh at that highly unlikely scenario. "You're one manipulative little witch, you know that?"

"Yes, of course. I _really_ want you to agree to this and I'll do what it takes."

"You'll do _anything_ to see it happen?" he drily asked.

"Well…" she murmured, taking another step closer. "There is one thing I can't do since there _are_ certain expectations to witches married off at eighteen, but just shy of that…"

Again Draco was feeling stunned. If he wasn't much mistaken—and he was pretty sure he wasn't—she was offering more than just snogging if he would consider the charade. Preserving her virginity was a mere technicality; even he knew there was a lot of ground that could still be covered.

"We're not going to do that," he sharply replied.

"But you're going to agree?" she asked, undaunted by his rejection.

Exasperated, he ran a hand through his hair. She actually had a damn good point about his need to reach out and touch someone. He'd always spent a lot of time alone because Malfoys were too good to mingle with just anyone and physical contact with Pansy had always helped ease the loneliness and calm him.

Perhaps that kind of relationship was what he needed right now. He certainly was spending a lot of time feeling lonely and agitated and it would be perfectly innocent. Nobody would get hurt this time. And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to get over this thing he had for Hermione Granger.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess I'll do it."

With a squeak of delight, she flung her arms around him and kissed him square on the lips. It wasn't the most romantic or sexy kiss two people had ever shared and he couldn't help but laugh a little at her exuberance.

* * *

Hermione was glad to finally set foot back at Hogwarts. It wasn't that she hadn't had a fun holiday, she most certainly had, but towards the end, the tensions had begun to mount. Ginny, knowing what she had to tell Harry soon after they got back, had become strangely introverted, Harry had been confused and suspicious and Ron… well, Ron hadn't really been that bad. He was just a little prickly when asked about his dating. He didn't feel like it was anybody's business what he was doing, and Hermione supposed she could understand that. She certainly didn't always feel like sharing the details of her own relationships.

Ginny had currently plastered herself to Hermione's side. She seemed to be avoiding being alone with Harry for now. Hermione didn't really mind the company much. She had always felt like Ginny had mostly been friendly towards her because she was her brother's and her major crush's friend, but since they had been sharing a secret—Ginny's own deep dark secret to be exact—she had been much more genuinely warm towards her. Since neither of them really had any close _girl_friends, it was perhaps even a good thing.

Provided it lasted beyond this little secret, of course.

They had just made it to the top of the first set of stairs when someone squealed, "Draco!"

Against her better judgment, Hermione's head snapped to the side to see Draco talking to Astoria Greengrass below.

"Aw, isn't that sweet. He came up to meet his girlfriend." Ginny's sarcasm was almost palpable.

Hermione shrugged. "Don't boyfriends often do that?"

"Yours didn't," Ginny pointed out, making Hermione flinch a little. As usual, she had no idea what Theo was actually doing or where he was. "I'll see him later, so why bother?" she muttered, feeling a little embarrassed that she felt the need to defend him. Just because they were seeing each other didn't mean they had to spend every second in embarrassing displays, for crying out loud.

Ginny didn't reply and Hermione glanced back at the couple below. Draco wasn't looking too happy. In fact he looked most of all like he'd somehow been trapped, but then Astoria suddenly jumped him, kissing him, and he laughed. Hermione looked away. Well, some people apparently had to indulge in embarrassing displays.

"I don't get him," Ginny was saying with a frown.

"You don't need to," Hermione replied. "Unless, of course, you want to date another Slytherin…"

Ginny shot Hermione a murderous look. "Like that would happen. I'm just saying that I don't understand how he works."

"Does it matter how he works?" Hermione was feeling a bit weary and would mostly just like to go to her room for a lie-down. "Come on, let's go." She began moving in the general direction of the Gryffindor tower.

"He was just sort of beginning to have me convinced that he liked _you_," Ginny muttered. "And he broke Boot's nose, but then the very next day—Greengrass! That can't be normal."

"He's rash. His emotions change with barely a warning," Hermione patiently explained. "When I was wearing the bracelet, he could easily go from serious to amused to angry before I could even blink an eye. It makes sense that his affections change just as easily."

"So, you do believe he fancied you, then?"

Hermione thought for a second and then shook her head. "Not really. The magic did something to him. It just wore off, that's all."

"Good riddance, I guess," Ginny said sounding skeptical.

Yeah… good riddance… It didn't do a whole lot for her ego how quickly he moved on after the magic wore off, though. And she still had problems figuring out why he gave her the bracelet and ring. It just seemed like such an odd gesture after moving on.

* * *

_Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._

"Interesting game, that."

Hermione started and the inkwell and quill that she'd been floating in some arbitrary and very clumsy dance suddenly fell down. Reacting to the impending disaster of ink and glass everywhere, she instinctively reached out to catch it, only to have ink slosh all over her hands since it had, naturally, not been sealed properly. She groaned and tried in vain to remove the worst of it with a piece of parchment.

Theo came all the way into their office. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," she muttered, not looking up from her attempt at cleaning.

He walked over to her and with the help of a few cleaning spells from one who could hold a wand without staining it, her hands eventually looked more pink than bluish black again. She generally preferred her hands that way, so she was quite pleased with the result.

"How was your holiday?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged, still studying her hands.

"You're mad at me."

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head and forcing herself to look up and smile. "I'm not mad." _Just disappointed that you didn't care to come down to greet me._

"I was summoned by Dumbledore to discuss some added duties," he said, apparently guessing why her mood was a bit off. "Besides, I figured you'd come up here and we could talk more privately."

She shrugged, still not feeling very reassured. She couldn't shake the thought that when even someone as notoriously relaxed about pleasing his girlfriends as Draco Malfoy could bother come up, then Theo mustn't have missed her at all to stay away.

Theo sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you wanted a rushed, public greeting."

Hermione gritted her teeth against a rush of annoyance. "It's fine," she coolly replied. "I mean, never mind that my friends don't think you care about me at all."

"So it's just about what your friends think?" he asked.

She looked away. He didn't even understand. They hadn't seen each other in weeks and for all his reaction, it could have been two hours. "I have to go," she abruptly said, getting up.

"Wait!" Theo said, reaching out and grabbing her arm. "Don't leave."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, trying hard not to show her emotions. His self-control and lack of clear expression even now made her feel overly emotional. "I mean, we'll see each other tomorrow in class, won't we?"

He looked down and she thought she saw a small frown, the first indicator that he wasn't completely uncaring. "True, but… don't leave yet."

"Did you need to discuss something with me?"

"Actually I do, but that's not—"

"What is it, then?" she cut him off. She _really_ wanted to get out of there, her pillow wouldn't judge her.

"Hermione! Please." He looked up and his eyes looked as weary as she felt. "Just because I didn't rush down to the entrance hall doesn't mean I don't want to see you. Can't we just _be_ for a bit?"

"You didn't owl me," she said, feeling rather pathetic.

He looked a little taken aback. "Did you want me to? I thought you'd be busy with all those people around you."

"Now you're just being stupid."

Now he _was_ frowning. "Well, how was I supposed to know? I don't exactly know how that _works_."

"How what works?" And he was _Theo_. Theo knew everything!

He shrugged. "Christmas. Large families. Lots of friends. I didn't think you'd want me to bother you at every turn. You haven't seemed overly interested in spending too much time together, after all. I thought you wanted your space. Besides, you knew where to find me if you wanted more contact."

Hermione's cheeks reddened. "You didn't seem interested in that!"

"Why wouldn't I be interested in hearing from you?" He looked genuinely puzzled. "I was just here. It wasn't like I really had any contact with anyone but the staff and occasionally Zabini and that hardly makes for a full social life. It was a rather long two weeks to be honest."

Suddenly Hermione felt like such an idiot. She'd been so busy waiting for him to show that he cared that she hadn't fully considered that he was perhaps doing the same. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Guess it was my fault."

"No," he muttered. "I guess I see why you'd think… but I thought you knew that I always want to hear from you. I always want to see you. I only kept my distance earlier because of…" His voice trailed off and he shrugged. "I don't know if any decision I could have made would have been good, but it didn't mean I don't _want_ this. I'm just having problems reading you lately. And if you need me to be more expressive, I'll try."

"No," she said, chewing at her lip and wringing her hands. "You should be you."

He carefully reached out and separated her hands, unclenching them, and then didn't let go. "I wanted to give you something, but I wasn't sure you'd want me to."

"Oh," Hermione felt her cheeks heat again. She'd sort of avoided the topic of presents because she would never know what to give someone like Theo. "Don't worry about that, I don't need anything."

He smiled at her. "You make it sound as if I'd give you a new toothbrush or a quill. And maybe I need to give you something."

"Well," Hermione murmured. "Since I just spilled ink all over my favorite quill…"

He tugged at her hands. "You're trying to deflect me. You don't have to do that. Just say no if you don't want it, if it makes you uncomfortable."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. He actually _had_ something? "But I-I don't have…" She swallowed, feeling like the worst girlfriend ever. She really wanted to cry. She blinked rapidly, trying to control that sudden inexplicable surge of emotions. Damn it, what the heck was wrong with her today?

She'd all but accused him of not missing her and not wanting to see her and then _she_ was the thoughtless dolt. How was that for irony?

Hermione Granger, Head Girl, know-it-all, bookworm extraordinaire and best friend of The Boy Who Lived didn't think she'd ever felt so small, confused or out of her element in her entire life.

* * *

**"I want us to be together," he quietly said. "I really do. But I'm not always sure that you… I just want to give you something. No ulterior motives. And if you don't like it, you don't have to keep it."**

**She drew even further back and crossed her arms. "You don't think I want us to be together?"**

**His gaze wavered. "Of course, but… You never know. Things change. One can't always predict the future."**

**((take comfort in knowing that even if the wait will probably increase there will be increased Dramione interaction in the next few chapters. Ask my betas. They've already read the next three chapters. Now off I go to try and increase my buffer so that there may be more actual updates even when I won't have time to write))  
**


	64. Chapter 64

**Little Adrian arrived on the 12th of November at 16.09 CET after giving his mother contractions for just about 75 hours. Evil little bugger. If you follow the link in my profile that says "homepage" you'll arrive at my LiveJournal where there's plenty more on the subject of the Kupo if you're curious. On the 16th I even posted some pics that I will lock to friends only in a few days because, well, I look something like a crack whore after that whole ordeal and I generally just don't like leaving personal pictures up unchecked. Feel free to look for now, though. **

**Anyway, here's the next installment, finally. ;)**

* * *

As Hermione was battling herself on how to react to the thought that Theo had actually gotten her a present, he was watching her with a slight frown. "Hey, don't worry," he finally said. "We'll just forget about it. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just a thing; things are nothing to be upset about." He tugged a little more on her hands, drawing her close.

_Stop being nice to me, damn it!_ She tried to get a hold of herself. "I'm not upset," she mumbled against his chest as his arms came around her.

"You're a terrible liar, love."

"This is unfair," she murmured. "Can't you just be one way and stop confusing me?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be!" She punched his chest. "_I'm_ sorry. You're probably already getting sick of me."

"What?" He drew back, his frown deepening. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on," she said. "I don't owl when we're apart, I blame you for not giving me enough attention when I'm even _worse_, and I didn't… get you anything."

He looked at her for a long moment. "You have many more demands on your time than I do. You don't have to worry about me. I won't ask for more than you can give. And I certainly don't need any material things… Just you."

Damn him! She looked away as he softly brushed a lock of her hair away from her face.

"Is that why you don't want my gift? Because you don't have one for me?"

She shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"In that case, don't worry. I just wanted to give you something. To remember me by, if you will."

"Why would I need something to _remember_ you by?" she asked, frowning, momentarily distracted from her distress.

He smiled a little vaguely. "When I'm not around," he said.

She took the time to look at him. _Really_ look at him. He looked a bit tired around the eyes and he seemed a little sad. Well, their conversation had been rather serious, she supposed. But he was holding something back. He seemed strained. "What aren't you saying?" she asked.

"I want us to be together," he quietly said. "I really do. But I'm not always sure that you… I just want to give you something. No ulterior motives. And if you don't like it, you don't have to keep it."

She drew even further back and crossed her arms. "You don't think I want us to be together?"

His gaze wavered, the first sign of insecurity Hermione could remember ever seeing from him. "Of course, but… You never know. Things change. One can't always predict the future."

There was more he wasn't saying, but she sensed that he wasn't going to open up on this particular subject. It seemed like he didn't trust her to stay with him. "I said I was going to try and do better," she murmured, studying her own arm as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"It's not that," he quietly said. "Can we just drop this? It may be nothing and if it is then arguing about it won't change anything anyway. I'd rather just enjoy what we have."

What could one answer to that? 'No, let's fight'? Hermione sighed. She supposed she would have to prove him wrong. "Ok."

"Good." He gave her a small smile. "Want my gift now?"

She slowly nodded and he reached into a pocket and retrieved a small box for her. Feeling a little bit awkward under his scrutiny, she opened it to find a chain with a silver pendant of a snake twisting around a rose, looking as if it might crush it. She raised an eyebrow. "Trying to tell me something?"

He actually laughed softly at that. "I just saw it and thought you might like it. Although, I would like to point out that appearances can be deceiving. The rose has some very dangerously-looking thorns." He briefly reached out and touched the pendant, causing the snake to come alive and glide into a different position around the deceptively fragile flower.

Hermione tried touching it as well, causing absolutely nothing to happen.

"Yeah, sorry," he muttered. "I'm afraid I didn't manage to find a way to make it work for you." When she looked at him questioningly, he explained, "It was made to react or, well, not react to your blood. It's not that I mean anything by it, but they were all like that…"

"Strange shop," Hermione murmured.

"Yeah, um, no." Were his cheeks actually turning pink? "It was among my mother's belongings." When she stared at him, he just shrugged and added, "She owned a _lot_ of jewelry, magical and otherwise. I don't think it has any real value. I just thought you might like it."

Hermione looked at the pendant again. She _did_ like it. A lot. It had a sort of dangerous beauty. And it had belonged to Theo's mother. It was the first time he'd even mentioned the witch to Hermione and even though he tried to downplay the value of the pendant and material things in general, she got a strong feeling that it _meant_ something to him.

And he wanted her to have it.

It was a little scary. Like a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. She frowned and touched the cool metal again, wondering if Theo's doubts were contagious or if she had her own.

* * *

Over the next few days, Hermione's life settled into the usual comfortable and uneventful routine. The only thing slightly off was that it seemed that Draco was very deliberately avoiding both her and Theo whenever he could. This was made somewhat difficult by the fact that the meeting Theo had had with Dumbledore had been about an increase in their responsibilities. The teaching staff didn't really have time to do their share of rounds anymore and unless they wanted to call in outside help, everyone would have to take on more shifts. This meant that she had been unable to avoid scheduling Draco with herself and Theo a few times for the next month in order to make everything fit.

Yet, within two days he'd managed to trade off those rounds. Two of them for rounds with Tara Stanwood, the annoyingly talkative Hufflepuff that he couldn't stand to even be near, let alone be alone with for hours.

If that didn't speak volumes, she didn't know what did. But it was ridiculous. There was no reason why he should keep avoiding them now that everything had been resolved. It had been resolved, hadn't it? He hadn't as much as looked at Hermione since she'd been back and he seemed to be paying quite a bit of attention to his new girlfriend. Maybe he was just feeling awkward about what had happened?

But she still wasn't sure why he'd given her the bracelet and ring. She needed to ask him about that if she managed to catch him at some point. She wanted to know why it was so important to him to prove himself to her. A part of her told her to leave well enough alone but… she couldn't. Something was off and it made her restless to not know _what_.

The coming Tuesday she was walking with Theo after class and they rounded a corner just to see a sight that made her mouth drop open. Think of the devil.

The bane of her existence and the Greengrass girl were kissing in the middle of the hall. Quite heatedly, too. Well, that was one way to keep warm in the middle of January, she supposed.

She had once heard that Draco wasn't very keen on public displays of affection, but he seemed to have forgotten that completely by now. She scowled. It was disgusting, really. Certain displays _should_ be kept in private.

She glanced at Theo just to find him watching her with that inscrutable expression of his.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, clearly lying. Ok, maybe not so clearly, since he was the consummate liar, but she knew he was lying just the same.

"It's just nauseating," she said, feeling the need to explain. He hadn't mentioned those doubts of his again, but she wanted to make it clear that they were unfounded. "I mean, I know that _we_'ve done the same, but then I didn't have to look at it."

He sighed and disentangled his hand from hers, looking away. "Then go break them up. I have work to do." Without even glancing at her again, he walked off.

It was frustrating how he chose to misinterpret everything. How could she possibly deal with someone who'd already made up his mind?

She scowled one last time at the couple and then decided to also walk off. After all, if she were to break up every couple snogging in the halls, she wouldn't be doing anything else.

* * *

Draco gently pushed the strange girl away. "A little warning next time would be good," he said, still trying to catch his breath. He liked kissing as much as the next bloke, but being jumped in the hallways by his pretend-girlfriend at odd times left him a little disoriented. She claimed it helped their relationship look more real, though, and he supposed it was true since so far nobody had questioned them.

"No time for that," Astoria said with a mischievous grin.

"Right," he mumbled, trying to figure out if that shimmery stuff she had on had rubbed off on him or not. The last thing he needed was to be walking around with pink, shimmering lips. It just wasn't the kind of image he wanted to create for himself.

"You're not curious as to why?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm always curious, but you don't usually _have_ a reason."

"Granger," she said, carefully watching him for a reaction.

His head jerked up. "What?"

"I saw Granger and Nott approaching and figured I'd give them a show."

Heart racing, Draco twisted to look down the corridor. Nothing.

"Oh, she's gone," Astoria informed him rather redundantly. "They didn't stay long to watch. Although Nott left first. I don't know if that matters."

Did it matter? No, of course it didn't. Obviously there had been no reaction. She just believed the same as everyone else, which was pretty much the point. He just wished… What? That he'd realized she'd been there so he could watch her not caring? He sighed. It was a little bit easier when he didn't see her, but unfortunately he couldn't help but look for her everywhere. He was just happy that she had no occasion to seek him out so he wouldn't actually have to pretend to her face.

Astoria put her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry. The least she could have done was break us apart. I did my best to break regulation, after all."

Draco smiled a bit weakly. He liked Astoria well enough and he wished that he could just get past this so he could perhaps appreciate someone like her a little more. "I've caught her snogging Theo before, that's probably why. She doesn't want to seem like she has double-standards."

Astoria shook her head, a frown pulling at her lips. "I don't like that she makes you so sad," she muttered. "Why doesn't she want to kiss you? You're really rather good at it. Someone like her should just be happy that you'd even _want_ to."

Draco's smile became a little more genuine. Someone like Hermione, indeed. "I'm not _sad_, but thanks for the compliment."

"Of course you're sad," Astoria quietly said, a sort of pained empathy flashing in her eyes before she could hide it. "It hurts when you can't get the one you want. Even if you can get part of them it hurts, because they'll never truly be yours."

"Tried that, eh?" he asked.

She shrugged and smiled, suddenly bright and cheery again. "Who hasn't?"

He gave that some actual thought in spite of it being a rhetorical question. "I'm fairly sure Theo hasn't," he then replied.

Astoria pursed her lips. "Don't be so sure. You never know and you shouldn't make assumptions."

Draco shrugged. "Even if he did try it, he's got the girl now, hasn't he?"

She just gave an answering shrug and then patted him on the cheek. "I have to go. Stay out of trouble." And then she was gone again.

For a second he just stood there, but then he sighed and trudged down to the dungeons to do his homework.

* * *

"Ah, there you are!"

Draco's entire body jerked and he managed to accidentally shove a book to the floor. Cursing under his breath, he checked to see if Madam Pince had noticed and quickly scooped it back up on the table. The library was supposed to be _safe_ on Wednesdays. His entire schedule was planned around being where Hermione and Theo weren't and on Wednesdays they should both be at their office planning or snogging or whatever it was that they did.

"You're a hard one to find," Hermione added.

Well, he tried to be, insofar it was possible. "What do you want?" he asked, staring down into his book.

Uninvited, she sat down across from him. As if she didn't hate him. As if they were friends. As if…

Mentally, he kicked himself and told himself to quit whining and make her go away.

"You never told me why you decided I should have those things."

"Sure I did," he replied, looking up at her. "So you'll get off my back about using them again."

"Ok," she muttered. "You _claimed_ that was why, but that's a really lame reason for giving away a 5,000 galleon set."

"Believe what you want," he said, snapping the book shut and beginning to rise. If she wouldn't go away, he would.

"Ok, then I'll believe that you are truly sorry for your mean pranks and want to make up for them."

She would never know how sorry he was that he'd been so deliberately cruel to her that there was no way he could do any of the things he wanted and have the least hope she'd react favorably. But then again, it wasn't as if he could do them anyway, so it was probably all for the better. "If you say so, Granger," he replied, packing away his books.

"You know what would go a long way in making up for that?" she asked, looking suspiciously innocent.

He was about to be screwed, wasn't he? "What?" he asked, trying to sound bored.

"Make up with Theo."

His hands stilled. He'd been wrong. Screwed didn't even cover what he was. "Sorry, Granger," he almost choked. "Can't do that."

"Why not?" she asked, her gaze probably seeing more than he wanted her to.

_Because he has you!_ "You shouldn't meddle."

"You've both been at this place for the entire holidays and from what I understand you didn't even _speak_. It's stupid and I know he's not happy about it, so I want it to stop."

He shook his head. If only she knew.

"I'll do your rounds for a month."

He shook his head again.

"Two months."

_No_.

"I'll tutor you."

Another negative.

"I'll leave you completely alone?"

Oh, now she was grasping. It was tempting, except he didn't really _want_ her to leave him alone. It was just easier when she did.

"Just tell me what you want!" she groaned.

It was tempting. Really tempting. But she was doing this for her boyfriend and anything he could think of didn't exactly promote friendly feelings on that front.

"You can have your jewelry back," she offered. "_And_ all of the above. Well, except I can't both tutor you and leave you entirely alone, of course."

He had no use for the jewelry. He couldn't wear it with another witch. But she could wear it with another wizard… He pictured Theo wearing the ring and momentarily felt such a surge of possessiveness and anger that he could hardly breathe. There was nothing he could do about that, though. He couldn't keep her from wearing the bracelet again without taking it back and he didn't _want_ it back. It was only the wearing of the ring that could only be done with one person…

An idea occurred to him.

It wasn't a very nice idea, by any means. It was underhanded and for all the wrong reasons and Theo would hate him if he found out, but he'd be powerless to do anything about it because it was relatively harmless.

At least in theory.

He smirked. It would be worth it.

* * *

**I love previews... XD**

**"Are you planning to stay a bitch for the duration of this?"**

**Hermione's head snapped up and he could tell he'd annoyed her. It was so easy to do. "That's my prerogative, isn't it?" she fairly growled.**

**"Sure." He shrugged. "I just want to know so I can be prepared. It's not _that_ time again, is it? Because then I'll reserve the right to wear full body armor."**

**Her eyes widened. "You are unbelievable!"**

**Draco grinned. "I know. But usually, when Astoria says it, it sounds a _little_ more flattering."**


	65. Chapter 65

**Been a while. Three weeks. It's almost Christmas. Time flies... I should be able to get another one in before Christmas, though. If you get bored before that and you didn't already see it, I posted up a fic I wrote for a challenge a couple of months ago. I'm still not going to post to ffnet anymore after I finish Bracelet, but, well, _didn't_ finish Bracelet yet. XD More to the point, you've all been very nice about the longer waits between updates and I thought that fic might amuse you.  
**

**And... you all think you're so clever guessing at what will happen, eh? But I bet you didn't see all of this coming... Mwahahaha... (No, I'm not mentally unstable, thank you for asking!)**

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but squirm a little uneasily in her seat as Draco's brooding features changed into a slow and rather menacing smile. Whatever evil thing he was about to demand, she would do it, she reminded herself. This was for a good cause. Theo probably wouldn't openly admit it, but he was obviously terribly bothered by his earlier friend's newfound indifference. So what if she had to bribe said friend to put that aside? In the end, everyone would benefit. Theo would be happier, she'd have a happier boyfriend and Draco would get whatever sick pleasure he got from tormenting her.

Come to think of it, maybe that wasn't a terribly good idea.

Draco leaned back in his chair and studied her steadily. "If you're willing to wear the jewelry again, we can discuss this."

She gaped, eyes wide and mouth open. "You want me to wear the _bracelet_ again? After all that happened last time?"

He slowly shook his head, another one of those ominous smirks on his face. "Of course not. That would be insane, wouldn't it? And Theo would probably arrange for my slow and very painful death."

"Then what?" she was almost whispering.

"The ring," he quite simply said. "You will wear the ring. I'll wear the bracelet."

"_What_?"

"Oh, come on," he said a bit sardonically. "It's not as if you don't want to. And we'll even waive the whole contract this time. You simply do not have it in you to have any fun."

"Why would you even _want_ that?" she hissed out between her teeth.

"I have my reasons," he said, not betraying a single thought. "But, of course, you don't have to do it. And I doubt that if you _did_ do it, and Theo found out, he would be very happy."

"For how long?" Hermione bit out.

"Well, that depends. How long do you want to wear it? I was thinking no more than a few days, but you could always 'purchase' extra time." He leaned in to rest his elbows on the table and shot her an insufferable smile that clearly stated he didn't think she'd go for it.

"It's dangerous," she whispered, not wanting anyone in the library to accidentally overhear. "It's _addictive_."

He nodded. "Yeah, that's why I wouldn't recommend that you go over ten days or so. I don't think the effects before that are that bad. Or what do I know, really. I might just not have known."

Hermione closed her eyes. That jewelry was dangerous. Using it again was insane. She really shouldn't even consider this.

"Fine," she said rather tonelessly. "But only for a few days and then you do whatever you need to do to become friends with Theo again."

"Five days, then?" he asked.

She winced. "Three?"

"I'm not sure it'll really work in three days. It takes time."

"What exactly takes time?"

He looked directly at her. "For you to _know_ what it's like."

She tried very hard not to widen her eyes. So that's what he wanted. A better understanding. She swallowed. This was a really, really, really bad idea. "Four days. And don't tell Theo."

His eyebrows shot up. "Keeping secrets from the boyfriend, are we?"

She bared her teeth at him. "No. _I_ will tell him. You can get the pleasure of telling your girlfriend."

"Is that an order?" he lazily asked. "Because if it isn't, I don't see how this should hold any interest to her."

"Of course not," Hermione sarcastically replied. "Why would she care knowing that you'll have some other girl poking around in your head and potentially ordering you around?"

"Exactly," he said with a smug smile. "Bring the goodies down to the dungeons whenever you're ready."

* * *

As soon as Hermione left him alone, Draco's smile faltered and he buried his head in his hands. It would be hell to have her inside his head for even a few days. And she would _know_ his feelings. There was really no way she wouldn't notice, was there? He didn't think he could control his emotions around her well enough for her not to be able to tell how he felt. He could try, but there really wasn't much chance of her missing it.

His pride would just have to take that hit. It wasn't as if there was a lot of it left anyway.

This was a crazy plan, he was willing to admit that, but he just wanted to know that in spite of everything she would have experienced a closeness with him that she'd _never_ experience with anyone else. Theo might have her, but _he_'d have something Theo could never have. He would have her know him in a way she would never be able to replicate with anyone else. She may not fully experience this hell of feelings he was going through, but that was all right. He just wanted this.

It was rather wretched, but there it was. It wasn't as if he was _really_ forcing it on her. She had agreed readily enough, hadn't she? All he had to do afterwards was try and get along better with Theo—which would be hell in itself, but he supposed he could pretend to be friends for the last five months of school. He had plenty of practice with fake smiles and insincere relationships to others. He just hadn't really wanted to do that with Theo because they _had_ been friends not very long ago, and Draco still valued that.

But not as much as he would value this.

He slowly made his way to the dungeons, and was surprised to have her at his door less than half an hour later. The witch certainly didn't believe in wasting any time.

"He can't know exactly why I'm doing this," she said without preamble. "He would just get mad. So I'm coming up with another excuse and you won't tell him otherwise."

"Why do it if you think he'd get mad?" Draco couldn't help but ask.

She gave him a withering look. "Because you two are too thick to work out your differences yourselves."

"So? You get him all to yourself. Isn't that what birds want?"

"Yes, we just long for unhappy boyfriends," she sarcastically responded. "Really, Malfoy, you should stop generalizing so much. It might make for better actual understanding if you did." She put down the box she had brought and opened it. For a second she just stared at the contents, clearly wavering.

Time for a diversion before she changed her mind. "Are you planning to stay a bitch for the duration of this?"

Hermione's head snapped up and he could tell he'd annoyed her. It was so easy to do. "That's my prerogative, isn't it?" she fairly growled.

"Sure." He shrugged. "I just want to know so I can be prepared. It's not _that_ time again, is it? Because then I'll reserve the right to wear full body armor."

Her eyes widened. "You are unbelievable!"

Draco grinned. "I know. But usually, when Astoria says it, it sounds a _little_ more flattering." He reached out and took the bracelet from the box and snapped it shut around his own wrist, fighting the sudden wave of anxiety. It would be fine, he reminded himself. She would interpret everything he felt to fit the image she already had of him, so there was no real risk.

Maybe.

She had picked up the ring and was staring at it. Draco willed her to just put it on. "I don't think I can do this," she suddenly said, dropping the ring back into the box.

He sighed. Trust her to overthink this. "Of course you can, Granger. It's not really that difficult."

She shook her head. "No… it's too dangerous. Think of something else and I'll do that instead."

He clenched his jaw. They were alone in his room and she wanted him to think of something else he could want from her? He knew her thoughts didn't go in that direction at all, but it still felt as if she was mocking him.

"Have you already forgotten? After less than two months not wearing it?" he asked, hearing the sharpness of his own voice. "For a long time _nothing_ happened. I actually quite enjoyed humiliating you, starving you, keeping you sleep-deprived… I guess I should have worked harder at ruining your reputation, though. Maybe I should have put you sleeping on my bed to better use, hm? After all, it would have been so easy to—"

With an unholy fire in her eyes, Hermione yanked the ring back out of the box and shoved it onto her finger.

Draco gasped mid-sentence and then frowned in disbelief and confusion. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. Only she was. He glanced at her to see that she was positively fuming, something very close to hatred in her eyes.

_Oh, shit. Oh, no._

"Don't," he quickly said. "Take a deep breath, you don't really—" He stopped, breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sounding very skeptical.

He made another desperate effort. "Calm down, Hermione. You don't want to do this. I didn't mean it, all right? I was just… just provoking…"

"I'm not doing anything!"

But she was. And she would think he was faking it because he'd run out of time for explanations. The slow itching heat on his skin erupted into a scorching fire and he heard himself cry out in agony as he dropped to his knees. All thought was obliviated and his whole world was pain. He knew she was talking to him, but he couldn't hear it. "Th-the ring," he tried to get out above the roar in his ears. "Remove… Mercy!"

He felt the wetness on his cheeks as if it were someone else's. This was unbearable. He felt as if he was being ripped apart from the inside out. If that wasn't enough… _she_ was the one doing it. _She_ was the one hating him enough to cause him this kind of pain. That hurt more than anything. _She_ wanted to hurt him like this.

He knew she had reason, he knew she was justified, but to learn that the one you wanted to hurt the least wanted to hurt you the most, _feeling_ it without a doubt, it was worse than the physical pain itself. It made him almost welcome that pain, because he knew that once it was gone and he had time to think he would suffer worse.

Suddenly it _was_ gone, and he was on his hands and knees, unable to stop the ache inside of himself and unable to speak. It was a humiliating position, but he guessed that was what she wanted. He closed his eyes, trying to make the flow stop.

She was kneeling next to him. "What happened?" she asked in a clearly distressed voice. "I didn't… Malfoy, I didn't do this!"

_Yes, you did._ But he couldn't reply, not just now. He fought hard to control his breathing.

"And I didn't feel any pain, so I thought you were pulling something, but your skin…" She reached out to touch him and he scrambled away, not wanting her touch, and opening his eyes to see her stricken face. "I took it off," she quietly said, "as soon as I noticed. I'm sorry."

He looked down on his hand, seeing the angry red marks. "It's all right," he hoarsely replied. "It'll go away."

"Malfoy, I—"

"Please leave," he interrupted whatever she was going to say. "Just… leave." He couldn't bear to be in her presence, knowing just how much she must hate him for this to happen. He had thought he hated her when he had first worn the ring, but he had never allowed this to happen, not _once_. She must really want to see him suffer in hell. He fought back more despair, not wanting her to see him as this whimpering mess.

"Is this a reaction to our reversed positions?" she persisted.

He almost laughed at that. "Not now. _Please_." He looked at her as steadily as he could. "Leave."

She got to her feet, looking a bit unsteady, her eyes huge and contrite. "Is there anything I can—?"

"_GO_!"

She fled the room and he leaned back against the side of his bed, drew up his legs and rested his head on his arms, the loneliness overwhelming him. He knew he wasn't the best of people. He knew he was spoiled and arrogant and that he had a mean streak a mile wide. He knew she didn't _fancy_ him. But he had tried his best to make up for everything in the only ways he knew how. It would never be enough, would it? She would never stop hating him.

The door opened. "Draco, what—?" There was a pause as Blaise took in the scene before him. Draco didn't respond. He was feeling too exhausted to explain. "I saw Granger leaving," Blaise finally said. "She seemed upset. I couldn't get her to say exactly what was going on. What the hell happened here?"

_Oh, she just tortured me, nothing special._ "Could you…" Draco hesitated and cleared his dry throat. "Could you get…" Who? Pansy? So he could lean on her again? She would come, sure. She would help him feel better. But how could he expect her to let go if he didn't? "Astoria," he heard himself say. "Could you make her come here?"

He would explain matters to Blaise later, but right now he wasn't what he needed to feel better. Blaise seemed to understand that and quietly left. Astoria would do nicely. She wasn't in love with him and considering what she had offered, this wouldn't be much. Just… comfort. He just needed to feel another human being.

He had a feeling that maybe he should get off the floor and straighten himself out, but he lacked the will to move. He drew one of his sleeves up to see that the angry red marks were prominent on his arms as well as his hands. Pushing his robes aside, he could also glimpse a bit of red on his shoulder. He didn't even want to go to the mirror to have a look at his face—he could only imagine how horrible he looked. It wouldn't last that long, though. Lasting marks wouldn't be very convenient to anyone using this jewellery.

For the first time he acknowledged that those who had made this bracelet might actually have been some sick bastards.

There was a soft knock on his door before it opened. "My, my, Malfoy. Inviting me to your room? That's a… new…" Astoria's voice faltered and he almost smiled at the shock on her face. "What happened?"

This was such a popular question with people today, wasn't it? "An accident," he just said.

In a way, he supposed it was. Hermione hadn't _known_ that she needed to curb her emotions if she didn't want him to suffer. He'd never thought he needed to tell her to please not unleash her unadulterated hatred on him.

"Granger did this to you?" she demanded, kneeling next to him and carefully touching his cheek. He _must_ look a fright then.

"It wasn't her fault," he murmured, not quite looking at her, wishing that Blaise hadn't told her that Hermione had been here.

She dropped her hand. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but found that he was embarrassed to ask this of her. Maybe he should just send her away and deal with it on his own. "I don't know," he muttered. "I just…" _I need someone._ He closed his eyes. Pathetic.

Then he felt her arms around him and he clung to her and to the thought that in spite of everything there were still arms in this world that would hold him.

* * *

**"Were you ever controlled by my moods?"**

**He smiled at that. "I don't know if I can say I was _controlled_, but heavily influenced, yes."**

**"When?"**

**He shot her a don't-tell-me-you-don't-know look and she flushed crimson. "Oh." Well, she couldn't be blamed for not thinking about _that_ when she was trying so hard to forget about it. "Well, that certainly won't happen again."**

**He smiled again, but this time it was a bit strained. "Is that a challenge?"**

**"What are you going to do?" she asked. "I'm the one wearing the ring, remember?" She wriggled her fingers, wincing at her own reminder.**


	66. Chapter 66

**Merry Christmas! And Happy Birthday to meeeee (yeah, on the 25th ^_^)**

* * *

Hermione was pacing in her room. Since there wasn't a whole lot of room to pace in, she took five steps and turned, five steps, turn, five steps, turn. Crookshanks was sitting on the floor watching her with the kind of condescending patience only he could pull off, his tail swishing. Stupid animal. Five steps, turn, five steps, turn. After a few minutes the monotony began annoying her, so she sat down, only to jump up mere seconds later, feeling like she should _do_ something. She took two steps towards the door, but then remembered there was nothing to do, he wouldn't want to see her right now. She resumed pacing.

Her heart was still pounding and it had been two hours since it had happened.

_How_ could he have been in pain without her feeling it through the ring? Wasn't she supposed to feel everything he was feeling? But he hadn't been acting. She didn't think he was _that_ good an actor. There had been tears and marks. The marks had been horrible. It was almost like… like… his blood had been boiling. And he'd clearly been in agony.

Somehow she had been responsible, but she didn't understand how. She hadn't _done_ anything. She had been mad, yes, and she had wished for retribution, wishing to hurt him like he'd hurt her….

But he had been wearing the ring for weeks, wanting to hurt her, and nothing like this had happened at all back then!

The way he had looked at her after…. She shivered. His eyes had been wide and horrified, pain and confusion and _fear_ evident. For those few moments, he'd actually seemed to be terrified of her, desperate to put distance between them. Had he been afraid that she'd take advantage and torture him while she could? But he must know that she would never do that. He _must_ know! She wasn't like that.

She swallowed and rapidly blinked away tears.

She wasn't like that.

* * *

After a night of virtually no sleep, Hermione dragged herself to breakfast and classes with no real enthusiasm.

To her relief, Draco was present and the marks were gone. That was good, right? Except, he was uncharacteristically quiet, even for his moody self. This was a quiet that went beyond silence. It was scary in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. She couldn't approach him, though. It would make people talk, and he clearly sent out a vibe that said he didn't want to be approached. She had to give him space. After all, this wasn't about making _her_ feel better. Nobody had tortured _her_ lately.

At lunch, she was poking at her food, trying to figure out a way to find out what exactly had happened and how and when to apologize to him again. It was true that he had been unpleasant in the past—more than unpleasant even—but that really didn't excuse whatever had happened.

She was also wishing Ginny to the devil. Ginny had finally told her secret to Harry and it hadn't gone over very well. As far as Hermione could tell, it wasn't as bad as Ginny's worst fears, but Harry was more than a little angry and hurt that she'd kept this from him in the first place, questioning her motives for doing so.

This was all bad for them, of course, but now Ginny had decided to semi-permanently attach herself to Hermione's side, labeling her an ally and using her as a way to stay close to Harry. It wasn't that Hermione couldn't understand Ginny's fears and motives, but she really didn't feel like being the best friend sidekick in this matter. They'd get through it soon enough. Harry wasn't big enough a git to just leave things like this. At the very most, he just needed a gentle nudge. Or to be clobbered on the head. Whichever worked first.

"Want to hear some gossip?" Ginny was asking.

"Sure," Hermione muttered, mashing her mashed peas some more. The squishyness was oddly amusing.

"I hear that Astoria Greengrass spent the night in Draco Malfoy's room."

Hermione stopped with the squishing and frowned disapprovingly at Ginny. She didn't really want to know this. "That's the best you can come up with? That Malfoy spent time with his girlfriend?"

Ginny shrugged. "She was there _all_ night. I'm surprised you and Theo let him get away with so much rulebreaking."

Draco had been in no condition to be alone last night. It was good that someone had been there for him. Hermione stared at her sad peas. They were a little bit too squished to be appetizing. At least she didn't feel like eating them anymore. "I'll leave that to Theo, his room is only a few feet away."

"That's another thing."

"What?"

"I hear you visited Malfoy last night."

Hermione shrugged, a bit weary with everyone sticking their noses where they didn't belong. "Business."

"Can I ask you something?"

She sighed. "Sure."

"Have you even been to _Nott_'s room?"

She blinked. That wasn't quite what she had been prepared for. "Uh…" She tried desperately to remember going to Theo's room, but realizing she hadn't, she frowned again. "I've had no reason to."

"Right. Well, if I were you, I'd make sure he knew that last night was just _business_, you know, especially since you never went by his room to say hello even though it was 'only a few feet away'."

Hermione scowled at Ginny. She didn't need a reminder that she was handling just about everything very badly lately. If things would just stop being so confusing….

* * *

"Granger."

Hermione started at the cool voice and stared up at Malfoy. _He_ had sought _her_ out? Here at the library? Today? Why?

He must have seen something funny in her face, because he snorted a short, largely unamused laugh.

Feeling more than a little confused and unsettled that he was able to _laugh_ at her, she ventured to do what she had wanted to all day. "Look, Malfoy, I'm really, really—"

"Yeah, yeah," he cut her off with a careless movement of his hand, once again leaving her staring. How could he act like he didn't _care_? "You forgot something in my room last night." He held out his hand, a distinct platinum band in it.

"I didn't forget," she informed him.

"I suspected," he replied. "But we had a deal, yeah?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "You can't honestly expect me to—"

"But I do!" he cut her off.

"No!" She shook her head, clenching her jaw. "Find someone else to do it."

He smiled without much humor and leaned towards her. "You will put it on and do as we agreed or I will tell Theo exactly how you decided to meddle in his life. Maybe I'll even tell him what you ended up doing to me."

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him to tell Theo, she didn't care! But of course she cared, and what she ended up saying was, "What if it happens again?" in a voice far too pathetic for her own ears.

"It won't," he quietly responded. "Just put it on. Trust me."

She violently shook her head. "No."

"Want me to be wearing this forever?" he asked, brandishing the bracelet. "I can't get it off without you putting the ring back on, you know."

"If I put it on long enough to take the bracelet off you, will you let me just do that?"

"No."

"Then there's my answer."

"We had a _deal_," he hissed. "And you will do your damn part!"

She stared at him in disbelief at the anger on his face. "Do you _want_ pain?"

"It won't happen again," he bit out. "You're too bloody contrite to be able to _make_ it happen even if you tried."

So he'd noticed that, had he? And it looked like it annoyed him. Sometimes she really didn't understand how his mind worked.

"How did I make it happen last night?"

"You wanted to hurt me." The statement was delivered without much emotion at all. "Because you hate me that much."

"I do not hate you." She didn't. Hate was much too strong an emotion. She _disliked_ him and sometimes she had certain other negative feelings towards him and, yeah, sometimes they were pretty strong, but it was not really hate.

He sighed wearily. "Of course you do, Granger. It's not like it's surprising news."

She crossed her arms, annoyed with his attitude. "It is to me!"

"_Hate_ is the only way to do what you did, so there really is no other explanation."

"How about _anger_? You made me really angry!"

"You honestly believe that simple anger promoted torture?"

"_Unintentional_ torture. And yes. I do."

"Believe whatever you will. The fact still stands that you wanted to hurt me and so you did."

"That's another thing. What about all the times _you_ wanted to hurt _me_? Why didn't it happen then?"

He paused for a second, looking away. "Self-control, I guess," he then said. "I knew what would happen if I lost it. You didn't. I didn't think you needed to know."

"Why didn't I feel your pain?"

"Would be kind of ineffective as a punishment if you did, wouldn't it?"

"I don't _understand_ this jewelry! What is its purpose? You can treat a person like a slave and torture them, but on the other hand you can feel their every emotion and even take their pain and injuries. It makes no sense!"

He shrugged. "Maybe it's so it can be whatever you want or need it to be? Aren't you the one always preaching about embracing differences?"

She ignored that absurd logic. "I can't wear that thing!"

"You can." He suddenly and unexpected grabbed her wrist and forced her hand open, shoving the ring on her finger so roughly that the hard metal scratched her skin and she cried out loud enough for a few people to turn their heads in their direction. He ignored it. "And you will. There. See, nothing happening."

Hermione was shaking and staring down at her hand, hard, so he wouldn't notice the tears in her eyes. It wasn't that he had hurt her. She had gotten hurt worse just from petting a moody Crookshanks or standing too close when Harry and Ron were mock-fighting. And she certainly didn't care that he was angry with her.

She was just terrified of wearing the ring. It wasn't really logical, but there it was. What if she got angry again and didn't know how to control it? She really didn't want to hurt anyone, not even Malfoy.

"It's not going to happen again," he repeated, his voice more gentle.

Why was he reassuring her? She felt her temper rising and then felt her fear double _because_ it was rising. She mutely kept staring at the ring.

He quietly said down across from her, apparently deciding to wait for her to speak.

"I'm not doing this," she insisted.

"Yes, you are," he said. "Because it has to be really important to you that I try to patch things up with Theo again or you would never have approached me. And it's just for a few days. If you lose your temper, you can just take it off until you've calmed down. I have to insist that you keep it on for anything else, though."

She looked at him sharply. "Anything?"

He shrugged. "I can't say what I'll be feeling, but I don't want you hiding from whatever it is. It wouldn't be fair. You can always tell me not to get carried away with something, though. If you do it right, I'll even have to obey."

Hermione looked mournfully at the ring. "This is another way of tormenting me, isn't it?" she finally said, her voice slightly hoarse. "You force me to wear this… this… thing… knowing that it terrifies me."

"If that were true, then what would I be feeling?" he asked.

Hermione mulled that over. Triumph, maybe? Glee? Smugness? She tried to discern what he _was_ feeling, not quite sure how she was supposed to know, when suddenly a few things inside of her stood out. He was still angry, but it seemed to mostly come from some sort of frustration and… hurt? She frowned at her hand. Yes, he was hurting.

Or maybe she just wasn't that good at deciphering feelings.

"Can you keep it all separated?" he asked in a low voice, probably realizing how hard she was concentrating. "I'll try not to overwhelm you with anything, but you really should make the effort just the same. You don't want to be controlled by someone else's moods."

"Were you ever controlled by my moods?"

He smiled at that. "I don't know if I can say I was _controlled_, but heavily influenced, yes."

"When?"

He shot her a don't-tell-me-you-don't-know look and she flushed crimson. "Oh." Well, she couldn't be blamed for not thinking about _that_ when she was trying so hard to forget about it. "Well, that certainly won't happen again."

He smiled again, but this time it was a bit strained. "Is that a challenge?"

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "I'm the one wearing the ring, remember?" She wriggled her fingers, wincing at her own reminder.

"It _is_ a challenge, then," he calmly said. "It's not my fault if you don't realize the power of the bracelet…"

"It's _not_ a challenge!" she insisted, but he didn't deign to answer.

Instead, he was just staring at her in the most unsettling manner, his eyes moving to her lips and then to her neck and down to the soft folds of her robes covering her chest.

Hermione suddenly found it a bit harder to breathe and her pulse began to pick up speed. Feeling her cheeks heat, she realized what he was doing… and then felt her cheeks heat even more. "Stop that!" she said as sharply as she could, still sounding rather breathless. "That's just… creepy."

"I think you feel it even more than I do," he said in a very soft voice. "At least it's my impression that pleasure and pain gets magnified. It makes me wonder… if I go to the edge, will you go to the edge with me… or over?"

She trembled at the implications and she was loath to find that it wasn't with disgust. No wonder he'd had such a hard time wearing the ring. "None of that," she hoarsely said. "No getting near _any_ edges, understand?"

"I may not be able to help it," he said, looking too innocent to be believed. "You know how us blokes are…" He looked at an attractive Hufflepuff girl sitting not too far away, and let his eyes slide down her form, causing a fresh wave of unadulterated lust to shoot through Hermione.

"Oh, God," she moaned, immediately causing the sensations to grow even stronger. She glanced up at Draco, whose eyes were now taking her in with a fevered intensity.

"I never meant to go too far," he murmured. "But you should probably not be… Merlin, don't look at me like that!"

She wasn't sure exactly how she'd looked at him, although she had suddenly remembered how soft his lips could be… Another jolt of lust shot through her. "This is bad…" she groaned.

"Tell me about it," he whispered. "I'd leave but I really can't without attracting attention… I only meant to tease you a bit."

Oh, she felt teased. And extremely frustrated. She was tingling in places she most definitely shouldn't be tingling and the urges she was currently having were _not_ suited for an open library and _not_ with a certain blond instigator.

"I guess I'd better…" she muttered.

"Yeah."

"Bye."

She quickly gathered her books and fled.

* * *

Draco rested his head on the table and groaned. So, yeah, he'd deliberately gotten both of them worked up to prove a point. But he hadn't meant to get _this_ worked up. He'd just wanted to cause a bit of a flutter, not a raging hormone fest.

He'd clearly underestimated how her flushed cheeks, parted lips, gasping breath and lust-darkened eyes would affect him and how that in turn would affect her and…. He groaned again. It wasn't new that he wanted her, but the mere thought that he could affect her like this was a pretty powerful aphrodisiac and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it except try to keep it down and spend the next few days taking very cold showers.

How he would love to take himself over the edge, though, knowing that she would be joining him, imagining how she'd look and sound….

He groaned again and began beating his head against the desk, hoping to reinsert some sanity that way, and earning quite a few annoyed looks from other students.

* * *

**"Oh." She was feeling really eloquent today, but she just didn't know what to say to this.**

**"But I'm thinking that with you hogging all the males in Slytherin, they must have some really lonely girls by now."**

**Now it was Hermione's turn to be startled. For just a second her mind was blank, but then she began sputtering objections to that outrageous statement. **

**It took her a minute to notice the twitching of Ron's lips.**


	67. Chapter 67

**Someone promised me all their Christmas presents if I posted before New Year's Eve... I hope they got a Playstation 3. ;P**

**And those commenting on the chapters being shorter. They are still not shorter, lol. They may feel it, but they aren't. :)**

* * *

For several hours after this newest _incident_, Hermione waited in her room for those… _feelings_ to disappear. She even debated taking off the ring, but ended up supposing that was technically cheating and if Draco somehow found out, he'd probably make her wear it longer. It was just hard to endure this. The lust ebbed and flowed for quite a while after she left the library, a clear indication that Malfoy was struggling to keep his libido in check.

No wonder he'd put a ban on her snogging when he'd worn the ring because this really was unbearable. She was flushed and restless and… well, yeah!

It was very impractical since she could hardly go anywhere or do anything while it persisted.

It was also quite embarrassing to be so worked up from so little. He'd done this to both of them with just _looks_! She'd never truly believed that boys were hormone-driven, but now she did. She really, truly did. And apparently they could do it by just looking at anybody? Perverts! At least _he_ was a pervert.

After it finally cooled down—quite literally, because he finally resorted to an ice-cold shower—she took a deep, relieved breath and went to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Hermione was _not_ amused. She liked her sleep. She really, really liked her sleep. She loved it, even. She did not need to be woken several times by Draco's inability to keep his lecherousness out of his dreams. Really, did he never think of anything else? She did not need to wake up all hot and bothered, not to mention disoriented, just because he couldn't keep his mind off… things. She supposed it was fortunate she didn't know _exactly_ what things, but given the feedback of the ring, she had a pretty good idea.

It was awkward to say the least. Was she really going to spend four days like this? This didn't strike her as one of those instances where she could just tell him to stop. He was hardly doing it on purpose… was he? No, somehow she didn't think he was.

Still… she couldn't go on like this.

Fortunately, by morning he seemed to have gotten himself in check and _fortunately_ there were no incidents at either breakfast or in class. Wouldn't _that_ have been embarrassing?

By the time lunch came around, Hermione was sufficiently sure that it wasn't going to happen again to begin to pay attention to other signals from the ring. It was really rather intriguing. Small things like hunger or the momentary amusement at something one of his friends said even registered. Yet beneath it all there was a dull, constant sadness—a feeling that Hermione was sure would keep her in bed curled up if she ever had it, not walking around and acting so… _normal_.

That was just yet another thing that she didn't understand about him—how he could so easily pretend. She couldn't help feeling a bit sad herself that anyone should have to feel like that, but at the same time she was confused about how he didn't _seem_ the least affected by it. He was usually so expressive.

"You're not even listening, are you?"

Hermione blinked and then felt her cheeks grow hot. She and Ron were finally talking somewhat normally again and then she wasn't paying any attention. "I'm sorry," she said. "Go on."

He looked a bit put out and waved a hand. "No, it's not important…"

She began to insist, but then changed tactics. "How's Lavender?"

The question seemed to startle him. "How would I know? You see her as much as I do."

"Oh. I thought you were…"

"We aren't."

"But weren't you?"

"Briefly."

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. It was just something to take the sting out of being rejected by my best friend."

"Oh." She was feeling really eloquent today, but she just didn't know what to say to this.

"But I'm thinking that with you hogging all the males in Slytherin, they must have some really lonely girls by now."

Now it was Hermione's turn to be startled. For just a second her mind was blank, but then she began sputtering objections to that outrageous statement.

It took her a minute to notice the twitching of Ron's lips.

He was teasing her.

Feeling rather silly, she stopped and scowled at him, her scowl deepening as he began openly sniggering.

Still, through her annoyance, it was nice to know that some things were going to be all right.

* * *

Later in the day, Hermione resolved that she'd better seek out Theo and make a few explanations. He'd probably heard _something_ about her going to see Draco even if he hadn't mentioned anything, and, well, then there was the thing with the bracelet being in use again.

This might not be a very pleasant conversation at all.

She decided to check the office first and if he wasn't there, she'd go to his room. She knew where it was. Sort of. If she remembered correctly.

Maybe he'd be at the office.

Ten minutes later Hermione found that, naturally, Theo wasn't at the office.

She bit her lip, reconsidering her plan. Maybe waiting wouldn't hurt? He could be told in the morning just as well as now. He was probably busy studying.

She gave herself a mental scolding. This was no time to be a coward. She would just go down there and then… well, if it was a bad time for him, she'd just leave again. She would understand if he needed to study or whatever he needed to do. It was no big deal. But she should definitely make an effort to talk to him today.

With that in mind, she marched down to the dungeons.

She felt oddly self-conscious as she went through the Slytherin common room. She hadn't felt self-conscious going here for months. It wasn't that people didn't notice her, because they most certainly usually did and some even scowled, it was just… her presence wasn't even questioned anymore. So why feel self-conscious about it _now_?

"What are you doing here?"

Ok, so maybe someone was questioning her presence. She turned towards Zabini. "I didn't know I had to answer to you."

He was looking extremely hostile and she flinched, not really blaming him. "Why can't you just leave him alone?" he demanded. "Do you get some sort of sick pleasure from tormenting him?"

He was assuming that she was here to see Draco? "I'm… not here to see him," she quietly replied.

Zabini looked slightly taken aback. "Then why _are_ you here?"

Hermione flushed, feeling embarrassed that it wasn't obvious. "I was looking for Theo," she muttered.

"Oh. Right. I had blissfully forgotten about that particular perversion you call a relationship." He made a disgusted face.

She stared at him. Perversion?

"He's in his room," he said, turning his back on her and returning to his seat.

Right. In his room. Which should be two doors down from Draco's room if she remembered correctly. If she didn't, then this might get a little awkward. Putting Zabini out of her mind, she slowly walked into the boys' dormitories.

Walking up to the door she _assumed_ was the right one she swallowed and then hesitantly knocked. Oh, this could be bad in so many ways. When the door opened, however, she was relieved to find that at least it seemed to have been the right one. Theo's gaze, however, made her cheeks burn and had her feet urging her to run away.

She wondered at that reaction.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, a decided coolness to his tone.

He heard something, all right. Blast it.

"Um, no," she replied, feeling her stomach flip over with nerves. "I just hoped I could talk to you about something?"

He opened the door wider and she entered his room. It was an unremarkable room, really. A functional room. It had the mandatory bed and desk et cetera, but nothing to really show anyone lived there except for the chest that no doubt held his clothes. There were no personal artifacts anywhere that she could see. Theo hadn't bothered to make it a home away from home.

He closed the door behind her. "It must be important. You never came down here before."

Hermione fought down a blush at that. She'd been down here plenty of times, just not in his room. "I, um, need to explain something."

"Ah," he said. "You finally figured I heard you visited Draco the other night, I take it?" He shoved his hands into his pockets.

Damn it. He was back to the knowing routine, but then again, it seemed everyone knew. "Yes. But you know that it wasn't…" She made a helpless gesture with her hands.

"I know."

"Do you know what it was, then?" she couldn't help but ask.

"No, not exactly. But I figured that if it was relevant, you'd tell me. Apparently, it's relevant."

"I just didn't want you to think…" She shrugged and looked away.

"I don't think that, Hermione. I know you wouldn't do something like _that_ to me."

He was right. She wouldn't. Not on _purpose_. But considering what had happened in the past and what Theo _knew_ had happened, she found it hard to believe he would trust her so unconditionally. Besides, while his demeanor wasn't exactly cold, it also lacked the warmth that was usually there when they were alone.

He was withdrawn.

"Was that why you came down here?" he softly asked. "You could have told me that in class, you know."

She shrugged again, feeling unsure and unbalanced. She couldn't figure out whether he was fishing for answers he already knew or just off-handedly asking. "I've never seen your room. I'm sorry if I intruded…"

"You didn't intrude. But that's not why you came here. Not really."

Ok, fishing, then. Or bluffing. "Then why did I come here?" she asked, folding her arms in a defensive challenge.

He watched her for a minute. "I'm not quite sure I really want to know," he then murmured.

"Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you?" she suggested, feeling extra defensive.

"Do you?" he asked.

"Never mind," she muttered, completely losing her nerve and taking a step towards the door.

He smoothly sidestepped to block her. "I'd like it if you did," he murmured. "More than you know. But why don't you just tell me what it is that brings you here?"

An unrelated thrill went through Hermione. She'd thought it had passed for now, but it would seem that Malfoy was having problems not _being a bloke_. He'd probably seen something in skirts. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as strong as what she'd experienced earlier.

"Hermione?" Theo asked with a slight frown when she shivered.

"Um…" What had he been saying? Oh, right. "Why do you always have to question me?" she asked. "Maybe I _did_ just want to see you!" Another small shiver went through her.

"Maybe you did," he said, not looking very convinced. "Is that the only reason you came here, then?"

"Yes."

"I see." If anything, his eyes now seemed even more dead. "Anything else you had in mind?"

As a third shiver went through her, and she could suddenly think of something she very much wanted to do. Her gaze felt to his lips and she began worrying her own lower lip. She knew he'd caught on to her thoughts as he went very, very still.

She lifted her gaze to meet his again and said, "Well? Are you going to do anything about it?"

Suddenly, there was no distance between them and his lips covered hers, leaving her instantly breathless. Her pulse was already racing and she _knew_ that a big part of this was because of the occasional now vague feedback from the ring, but that didn't keep her from thoroughly enjoying what was happening.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and feeling his pulse speed up as well. Oh, he wasn't indifferent. In fact, he got more demanding as well, his hands gripping her waist and pulling her even closer.

No matter how it sometimes seemed, Theo definitely still wanted her.

She wanted him too, didn't she? And they _were_ dating, weren't they?

He was obviously trying to be a gentleman, though his hands never leaving her waist. Why did she have to end up with the _one_ eighteen-year-old gentleman in existence when she _so_ didn't want him to be one right now? It was annoying.

Suddenly feeling like a bit of a devil, she bit his lip a little harder than was nice and smirked as he hissed and jerked. Suddenly, however, the tables turned, as she found herself slammed against the door, also a little harder than was nice. Her eyes widened in surprise.

This time Theo coldly smirked, looking more Slytherin than she recalled ever seeing him. "If you wanted to play games, all you had to do was ask," he said in a silky voice, before kissing her again, hard.

Almost punishing.

There was something a little bit scary about this Theo, who was almost, but not quite, hurting her. Something thrilling. It seemed like the barriers he'd carefully been holding in place before had now melted away and she could feel a burning passion in him. For her. There was a need to touch, to kiss, to feel… a thinly veiled desperation, even, a frustration.

Pain.

She was soft against him, responding to his kisses and returning his caresses, trying to soothe him, but it didn't seem to help. His frustration only seemed to grow, his touches growing to be near bruising, until he abruptly pushed away from her.

"Maybe you should go," he quietly said, turning away.

She took a deep breath, trying to stop her head from spinning. "Maybe I want to stay?" She hadn't truly considered this before she said the words, but when they were out, she found that they were true.

His back stiffened. "I don't think you thought this through."

"What's to think through?" she asked, confusion muddling her thoughts even further. "I want to stay."

"But I don't want you to," he said in a voice almost too soft to hear.

Hermione felt like she'd just been slapped. She blinked a few times, trying to keep the hurt from materializing. "Oh." She didn't think she'd ever felt this humiliated before, not even when wearing the bracelet. She hadn't actually thought he'd reject her.

"Did you really think I hadn't noticed? Or _heard_ about what happened at the library?" he asked, turning back around. "You're wearing that _thing_, playing his games again. I don't know why and I don't think I want to know anymore, but I can't… I can't be with you like this."

"Oh." Hermione felt both relieved and more embarrassed. As a result, she began babbling. "It's just for a couple of days, it was the only way I could get him to do something for me. I'm not going to do anything with it and he can't feel me like this so it's not—"

"I don't think you understand," he interrupted. "You agreed to wear it in the first place, in spite of everything that happened. You're willing to continue to allow him to manipulate you, even when you know that he has an agenda. And you had every chance to tell me about it, to explain yourself, but you didn't. Not for _two days. _I can't be with you, Hermione, not anymore."

When the words registered, Hermione felt all air leave her lungs, making it hard to breathe. "W-what?"

He was looking away. "I'm sorry."

After everything he'd said about _him_ wanting to make it work and _her_ not wanting it enough, _he_ was breaking up with her? Because of something she had ultimately done to help him? She opened her mouth, but found that she couldn't make any sound come out.

It didn't matter because she didn't know what she was supposed to say. She could try to explain, tell him she wanted this relationship, ask for his forgiveness.

But she was still reeling from being turned down and the thought of making herself open to more rejection was unbearable right now.

Without another word, she turned around and left.

* * *

**The action gave Draco a much better look at her face and for a moment he didn't know what to say. He had the strangest urge to find out what was wrong, but he knew she wasn't going to tell him if he asked. "So that's your way of getting back at me?" he finally managed to say. "Waking me up? Lame, Granger. Really lame. Want some pointers on some more interesting ways to get back at someone? Tormenting people is my forte, as you may very well know, while yours is… What is it you do, again, apart from memorizing books and snogging people?"**


	68. Chapter 68

**Umm... If you sent me a PM that required a reply in, say, the last six months, and I didn't? You should probably try again. I can see I have some OLD stuff lying around that I never got around to replying to. It's nothing personal. Honest! I just... sort of suck lately. XD**

**Oh, and a disclaimer that should probably be an end-note, but whatever: Various reasonings will be elaborated on in _next_ chapter, so never fear! (that was suitably vague, right? XD)  
**

* * *

It was late.

She should be going to bed, Hermione reasoned even as she was leaning against the cold dungeon wall outside of Theo's room, trying to make her legs stop shaking. A bit of sleep would probably do a world of good. Maybe she'd even forget that she had not so subtly offered to have sex with her boyfriend just seconds before he chose to dump her.

Right. As if she would ever forget _that_ particular humiliation.

A couple of the tears she'd been holding back escaped. She _really_ wasn't any good at this. Perhaps she should just stop dating altogether. At least until she figured out how to tell whether a boy really meant what he said or not. Trying to figure things out like this was confusing and it _hurt_. She had honestly thought that Theo would understand. She'd certainly never dreamed that he would just cut her like this.

She had _trusted_ him, damn it. Trusted him to understand her and to talk to her if there was something that needed to be talked about. Trusted him to work with her and not just keep all of his thoughts to himself.

She had trusted him to be a human being.

Raising her hand to wipe her eyes, she noticed the ring. The damned ring. Such a stupid thing to lose your boyfriend over. Well, there was no reason to wear it anymore, was there? She didn't care if it made her petty, but why should she try to fix Theo's relationship with Draco when Theo was ready to throw her away this easily? He hadn't even given her a chance to explain. Not that she would have known what to say, exactly. Her grand scheme had just been to try and make Malfoy make an effort and then she'd sort of hoped they themselves would take it from there.

The idiot boys could both use the friendship, but neither of them seemed willing to admit it and so she'd done something she _knew_ was stupid in order to help out her boyfriend. He had to be mental if he thought she _wanted_ to wear this thing. In fact, she would prove him wrong by ending the deal right now. Not that it would really matter all that much, because she wasn't going to forgive him that easily, but just proving him wrong would feel nice. Maybe it would even take away some of the sting of the humiliation.

Feeling determined and almost convincing herself that this wasn't just a way to try and forget what had just happened, she marched up to Draco's door and knocked. She might as well inform him of the change while she was here. When there was no answer, she frowned and knocked again. She knew he was there. She could feel his presence _and_ his building annoyance. Snorting, she yanked the ring off. There, that fixed matters. Sort of.

Ok, it fixed nothing, but at least she didn't have to be inside Malfoy's head anymore.

Finally, the door was yanked open. "_What_?" When he noticed it was her, he did a double take. "Granger? What's wrong? Why are you here?"

"I didn't come down here for you," she said, before, deciding that she didn't want anyone to listen in on their conversation, pushing past him. "But since I was in the neighborhood I thought I might as well tell you that the deal is off." With her back to him, she put the ring down on his desk.

* * *

Draco stifled a yawn and tried to shake the wool from his brain. He had _just_ been able to get rid of certain _really_ compelling images of Hermione in order to go to sleep and now she was here? In his room? To call off their deal? _Again_? If she was that bored, couldn't she at least come up with something new?

He shook his head. "We already had this conversation, Granger. Why do you insist on having this fight? And at this hour?"

She turned to face him and he had to struggle a bit to keep his expression annoyed and his stance relaxed. Something was wrong. Something had upset her. He assumed that the reason she was here was to take it out on him. Shouldn't that somehow annoy him more instead of less?

"It's not that late," she pointed out.

He didn't actually know if she was right, but he suspected she was. He'd just been so very tired after having gotten next to no sleep the night before. "You knew I was sleeping," he countered.

"And I should care… why?" She tossed her hair back, looking down her nose at him.

The action gave Draco a much better look at her face and for a moment he didn't know what to say. He had the strangest urge to find out what was wrong, but he knew she wasn't going to tell him if he asked. "So that's your way of getting back at me?" he finally managed to say. "Waking me up? Lame, Granger. Really lame. Want some pointers on some more interesting ways to get back at someone? Tormenting people is my forte, as you may very well know, while yours is… What is it you do, again, apart from memorizing books and snogging people?"

He almost smiled at the expression on Hermione's face. She really chose the funniest moments to allow herself to be baited. He just figured that if fighting with him would make her feel better, he might as well oblige. That was the one thing he could be good for.

She didn't react the way he expected her to, though. After a second, the annoyed expression disappeared, and instead she looked on the verge of tears. He shifted a bit uncomfortably, really hoping she wasn't about to cry. He wasn't sure he could handle her crying right now. He was afraid that if that happened he might do something stupid like try to comfort her. He was even more afraid that comforting her would include close physical proximity and he might try to kiss her. And he was mostly afraid that she would become overwhelmed again and let him. He wasn't sure that even though he knew it wasn't real he would be able to stop himself.

He was desperately praying that she'd somehow find her temper again and just be mad at him. Mad he could handle.

"I am good at those things, though. Aren't I?" she quietly said.

This brought him up short. What was he supposed to answer to that? She knew damn well that she could do more than memorize books and that the thought of her kisses was literally keeping him up at night. Did she really want him to put that into words? If she did, that would be strange in and of itself, because up until now she had seemed to be very adamant about denying his attraction to her.

"You're quiet," she observed. "How should I take that?"

"You know the answer," he replied, feeling his confusion turn into frustration and then anger. Anger at _her_ for putting him on the spot like this. It just wasn't _fair_. Why should he have to admit to wanting her when she didn't even want to acknowledge it? It just made him look stupid and desperate and he _hated_ looking either of those things.

She stepped towards him and he took a step back in sheer confusion, coming up against the door. What now?

"Have you ever taken the punishment for something you didn't do?" she asked.

What the hell kind of question was that? "Sure."

"Did it ever make you want to earn it?"

Huh? He glanced uncertainly at her.

"You want me to get creative in how to get back at you?" she asked in a low voice that didn't sound like her at all.

Something about the way she acted was disturbing to him. Even more disturbing was the fact that his tired, oversexed mind was currently ignoring the fact that she was acting odd, and any reason for why that might be, in lieu of noticing that she was _there_, alone with him, in his room, standing much too close. It didn't help matters that her hair was looking slightly rumpled and her lips…. It wasn't fair that he should want something so much and not be able to have it. "What are you on about?" His voice was hoarse to his own ears.

She took another step closer, eliminating almost all space between them. "It's so strange," she said in a voice that could almost be called dreamy, "how people often want things they can't have or things that aren't good for them, isn't it?"

He was shaking his head slowly. If she was thinking what he was thinking she was thinking, she must be in a really bad shape to even contemplate such a thing. She wasn't that cruel. "I already know I can't touch you," he reminded her. "Reminding me of that will serve little purpose." Except drive him out of his mind, not to mention probably make him lose his control. Then she'd _really_ get some fun feedback from the ring. He was mostly sorry that he probably wouldn't be close enough to see it, because she would most likely be long gone by the time that happened.

She shook her head and placed her hands on his chest. "That's not what I'm going to do."

His mouth was going dry. It seemed that tonight she really was that cruel. "Then what?"

"Has nobody ever told you to be careful what you wish for?" she whispered, pulling down his head.

He tried to resist. She obviously didn't know what she was doing. "The ring…"

"Is on your table."

He glanced over at his table. She wasn't lying. How sad was it that the simple thought that she was acting on her own seemed to be a powerful aphrodisiac to him? He tried to tamp it down and clear his head. She wasn't doing this of her own accord. "A spell…"

"No spell."

"Drunk?"

She snorted.

His mind was growing steadily fuzzier. "Potion, then?"

"No excuse!"

She yanked his head down the rest of the way.

His mind went blank even before she touched her lips to his. This was simply so surreal that he couldn't process it. The lips against his own, the curves pressed against him, even the unruly hair that he suddenly found his fingers threading through… it all felt so soft and appealing, making him want more.

She was also warm. And much too real for this to be a dream, which was sort of the only alternative that he could think of to her being under some sort of influence.

Her mouth opened under his and he couldn't keep back a sound of pure bliss when she lightly brushed the tip of her tongue against his.

If she was planning to tease him into a pained state, she was already doing a very good job of it. He didn't mind, though, which was the truly horrifying bit. But if it made her feel better, then everyone was winning, right? He wasn't using her if she was using him, was he? And he certainly didn't mind kissing her better, even if not doing anything about this state he was in after she put the ring back on was going to be hell.

She ran one hand from his shoulder and down the length of his arm to grab him by the wrist and gently tuck his hand free from her hair and move it down to her chest.

He couldn't help it. He made another sound and began exploring what was freely offered. It didn't matter anymore that it was at least ten kinds of a bad idea.

He was beginning to suspect that this was a very elaborate way of trying to kill him, but, still, he _really_ wasn't complaining. How could he be? He would gladly stand here like this all night.

No sooner had he thought that than she broke free from him.

He wanted to object, but caught himself at the last second. This wasn't for his benefit. It never would be. Complaining was useless, if not directly counter-productive.

Still, another few minutes wouldn't have hurt.

"Come on," she said, tugging at his hands.

Still feeling a little dazed—and his brains quite frankly lacking blood—he followed her the few steps without much thought. It wasn't until he realized that she'd sat down on his bed that he blinked and frowned and tried to gather his thoughts. "What are you doing?" he murmured.

"This is more comfortable, don't you think?" she asked. It didn't escape his attention that she wasn't quite meeting his gaze. What was going on?

He was about to ask her just that when she opened the top button of her shirt, effectively rendering him speechless. She was going to take this even further.

Just how bad a shape did she need him to be in? This question sparked a huge conflict in him. There was the part that wanted to reason with her, to ask her to please stop before he lost his sanity. And then there was the part going, "_Oh, Merlin, yes!_" that just wanted to grab all it could get.

It was, of course, the last part that won out.

Hermione scooted a bit back on the bed and he was crawling up her length, covering her body with his own and capturing her mouth for another kiss before they were even done settling. It was a more aggressive kiss than before, showing her just how starved for her he was. If she could take it further, so could he. If she planned on driving him insane, he wasn't going to worry about scaring her off anymore.

She didn't flinch. She didn't pull back. She didn't even hesitate in responding.

His need went through the roof.

With some effort he broke off the kiss, before whispering, "It's working really well, love, but you might be overestimating how far you can go before it stops being a punishment." He pushed against her, hoping she would get his meaning. He could come like this. Hell, soon he probably would if she didn't stop rubbing against him like that. Oh, Merlin, it felt too good. He closed his eyes, shivering slightly. Much, much too good. It could get a little embarrassing if she wasn't careful.

She laughed a little breathlessly, and he wryly thought that it was good he at least could supply some entertainment. Then she caressed his earlobe with her lips as she breathed, "_Who said stopping was part of my plan?_"

A physical jolt went through him. She was going to make him come?

The thought alone almost finished the deed.

* * *

**Suddenly his hand stilled and he drew back a little. Hermione felt a little bit confused until she noticed the feel of body-temperature silver moving against her skin. He'd come across her snake and rose pendant and it had puzzled him when it had come to life, nothing more.**

**He moved his hand a bit and the snake stopped moving. He still kept looking at it rather blankly, though.**

**"I'll just move it out of the way," Hermione muttered, pushing it aside.**

**That seemed to snap Draco out of it and his eyes moved to hers. For a minute, he kept the blank look, but then he groaned—and not in a good way.**


	69. Chapter 69

**My outline does not say in chapter XX this and that happens. My outline has a list of points that will pass and each chapter is, as I have said a lot of times before, just chunks of words cut at an appropriate time, making all chapters roughly the same length.**

**As such, no, I can't say how many chapters are left.**

**And, really, to the select few: it is beyond rude to nag me to finish it. If you want it finished, feel free to say "rocks fall, everyone dies" OR alternately "and they lived happily ever after" and go read something else.  
**

* * *

Hermione was surprised.

No, surprised wasn't quite the right word. It was just that when the slightly crazed idea to come on to Malfoy had entered her mind, she hadn't quite realized it would be this… nice.

She wasn't sure why she had made the decision in the first place. She was just feeling so rejected, undesirable and alone and then he had looked at her with that almost gentle expression in his eyes for just a second….

Ok, if she had to be completely honest with herself, she knew why she had done it.

Because she could.

And also because she knew he wouldn't reject her and because just being wanted felt good. She wasn't really sure how far she had meant to go, but she found herself disinclined to stop again. He didn't just want her; he _wanted_ her.

Since this was the first time she wasn't under the influence of magic and assorted other things, she hadn't expected to enjoy it this much. She hadn't thought she'd _dislike_ it either, of course, since she didn't recall him slobbering or anything like that, but it had mostly been her ego she had wanted to soothe, not her hormones.

Now it seemed she had a chance to soothe both.

It was true that she loved being wanted in itself. It gave her a thrill that a mere shift of her hips could make him groan and a brush of her lips against his jaw could make him tremble. She got an ever bigger thrill from wrapping one of her legs around his, making his kisses and touches more urgent. He was now whispering in her ear about how much he wanted her.

But more than getting that thrill from knowing the power she had over him, she liked the kisses and the touches he administered just for the feel of them, and when she was squirming under him it wasn't just a ploy to manipulate him into a frenzy.

_She_ wanted more. And this was the bit that surprised her.

She did have enough sense to briefly debate how far she should take this, but she came up with no reason why she should stop. Theo had dumped her. Malfoy was a more than willing participant. Who cared about the rest? There was the brief moral dilemma of him having a girlfriend, but that should really be his dilemma and not hers. _He_ was the one who couldn't seem to stick to one girl.

Ok, maybe that was the lamest defense ever, but the fact remained that even though she could choose whether she would be a part of this, _he_ was the one doing something he really oughtn't. If he was willing to do this kind of thing at all, then she was really doing Astoria Greengrass a favor by outing his behavior.

Her reasoning wasn't working. She was beginning to feel her conscience nagging at her. Bugger. She put her hands on his chest and slightly pushed. He wasn't quite willing to budge, but instead began doing things to her ear that gave her gooseflesh. For a second she forgot what she was going to do, but then she remembered and with a sigh, she pushed again, harder.

His grunt was almost one of pain. "Decide that you're done teasing?" he hoarsely whispered. "Please un-decide. I can make you feel good…"

He ran his hand down her thigh and lifted her leg slightly, pushing down against her in a way that made her gasp before she could check her reaction.

"See?" he muttered. "You liked that."

She did. He seemed very good at finding out just what she liked and then using it. Botheration. "Astoria," she said.

He looked at her, uncomprehending.

She tried again. "You can't do this to your girlfriend."

His expression cleared. "Don't worry about that," he said. "She's really not an issue."

Hermione frowned, sort of wishing that he'd move away so her thoughts could clear. "You broke up?" she asked.

"Something like that," he muttered, and then he kissed her again, effectively making sure she couldn't object.

She didn't want to.

She reached up and began undoing more of her own buttons. Malfoy stiffened against her, his entire body going rigid. "Please tell me this _isn't_ just about tormenting me," he whispered. "I'm not sure I could handle it. Not again."

"I do want to torment you," she replied. "I want to drive you out of your mind. And I want to make it worth it. For both of us."

The sound he made was close to a whimper and Hermione almost wanted to laugh. Almost, because she was feeling rather breathless herself. Not to mention the ache she had to be touched. She pushed against him and he obliged, sliding his hand in between the folds of her newly opened shirt to caress her midriff.

It wasn't her midriff she wanted caressed, damn it. And as a randy teenage boy, that shouldn't be where his hands were wandering, anyway. What was with these Slytherin boys? With a grunt of objection, she moved his hand up.

He answered with something somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "You're killing me. But please don't stop. I'll be a happy corpse."

His hands slid up to fully cup her breast and she practically purred. She liked the feeling of his hand, and she liked how his breathing had become even more labored. She was becoming increasingly flushed and tingly and her own breathing didn't come quite as easily anymore.

Suddenly his hand stilled and he drew back a little. Hermione felt a little bit confused until she noticed the feel of body-temperature silver moving against her skin. He'd come across her snake and rose pendant and it had puzzled him when it had come to life, nothing more.

He moved his hand a bit and the snake stopped moving. He still kept looking at it rather blankly, though.

"I'll just move it out of the way," Hermione muttered, pushing it aside.

That seemed to snap Draco out of it and his eyes moved to hers. For a minute, he kept the blank look, but then he groaned—and not in a good way. His head fell to her shoulder and suddenly, without a warning, he hit the pillow just to the right of her with his fisted hand. She jumped with surprise, but he was not done. He hit it again… and again.

Hermione didn't know quite what was going on inside his head, but deciding that Draco was definitely showing signs of being unstable, she edged to her left, away from under him. He let her go. He had rolled slightly to the side, but Hermione noticed that he wasn't looking at her at all.

"What's going on?" she demanded to know, feeling rather unsettled.

"Too good to be true," he hoarsely whispered. "Too bloody _good_ to be _true_. I should have known."

"Why are you angry?" Her voice had risen as her level of upset was escalating.

"Why are you here? Why are you not… Why are you here?" he countered.

She looked away. Did it matter? "Does it matter?"

He swallowed and the hand that had been hitting the pillow was forced open, only to clutch at the fabric instead. "No," he finally said. "It doesn't matter. I don't care why."

"Why are you mad?" she asked again.

"I'm not…" His entire body was tense and he still didn't look at her. "Not really. Just… a little frustrated. I hate stopping."

"I didn't ask you to stop! I didn't—" _want you to_. She stopped herself from saying that. She was confused and a feeling of rejection was settling in again. For some reason he was stopping even though it seemed like it was almost painful for him to do so. She slowly began buttoning her shirt, willing the pressure behind her eyes to go away. She didn't want to ask him again what was going on. She had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

"Why didn't you go to _him_ like you should?" His voice was hard considering he supposedly wasn't angry.

Why indeed. "None of your business," she whispered without any force behind the words. It probably was a little bit his business, seeing as she'd dragged him into it. But what could she say? 'I did go to him, but he turned me down'? That just seemed wrong.

"If you had a fight with him," he murmured into the pillow, the strain still evident, "kissing me was probably the worst thing you could do. And sleeping with me… he would never have forgiven that and you know it."

She didn't reply, just focused hard on her buttons. She wouldn't need Theo's forgiveness.

"It's him you want," he continued, sounding as if he forced the words out. "He's your boyfriend. Tomorrow you'll make up with him and you'll be glad that you didn't let me… that we didn't…"

"He broke up with me!" She managed to say the words without her voice cracking… much.

He looked up, a resigned understanding that she didn't want to see evident on his face. "You'll still make up," he quietly said. "He's too crazy about you to just let you go like that. Us sleeping together would have been a really bad idea for you."

She shook her head, not trusting her voice to explain that, no, there would be no making up. Theo had been too quick to hurt her. But what was she supposed to do? Beg Draco to resume? The disappointment was overwhelming. "I'll get out of your hair," she mumbled, turning from him so he wouldn't see her face and making a weak pretense of pushing a lock of hair behind her ear when a tear managed to slip free.

She didn't relish him reminding her of Theo, but more than that, two rejections in one night was a bit more than she had ever wanted to experience. No matter what reason was supposedly behind it. She had thought Malfoy would be _sure_ to go for it. He wanted her. She knew he did. But apparently, he was putting other matters above sleeping with her. That shouldn't hurt, since it made sense rationally, but it did. As vain as it sounded, she had actually thought he wanted her _more_.

Suddenly she just wanted to get out of there.

She scrambled around Draco and to her feet and had taken all of two steps away from him and her second humiliating experience of the night when he caught her wrist. "Wait."

She froze. Wait? What could he possibly need her to wait for? She tried to pull her arm free of his grasp, but his fingers just tightened.

"Wait," he repeated.

"What do you want?" she dully asked without turning back to him.

"You can stay."

Her eyes widened and she gave her arm another futile tug. "If you think I'm still sleeping with you—!"

"No," he quickly reassured her. "But you came here to not be alone, didn't you? You were upset and now I know why, I guess. You don't have to sleep with me to stay."

She frowned, still not wanting to look at him. "What is this? I don't need you to—"

Now he tugged at her arm, making her lose her balance enough to sit down on the edge of his bed. "Would you just be quiet? You don't have to _need_ me to not want to be alone. I'm thinking you came here because your friends probably wouldn't be as sympathetic of what happened as you'd like."

"Oh, and you are?" she murmured.

"You knew I wouldn't turn you away."

"I _thought_ you wouldn't."

His jaw clenched. "Be honest. It wasn't sex you wanted in the first place, anyway. I'm just offering what you _really_ wanted."

"And what's that?"

His eyes were a strange mix of resignation and determination. "Just comfort. Nothing to regret."

* * *

Draco was a liar. He _was_ angry. Angry with himself for believing that he could have her—again! When would he bloody learn? He had gladly ignored all the signs that she was doing it for the wrong reasons and even been pleasantly surprised when she seemed to enjoy when he touched her, but then… then there had been the reminder he could have lived without.

The reminder that she belonged to Theo.

He wouldn't have minded ignoring that too, not at all. At this point in time he was most definitely thinking with his dick. But it hadn't taken more than one look at her face to bring him to the next reminder.

She didn't _want_ to be in _his_ bed and was probably _wishing_ he was Theo.

That had hurt a little, but desperate for gratification as he was, he had been willing to ignore that too. For one night he could pretend. As long as she was willing, it was ok, right?

But it wouldn't be ok. It would ruin everything for her, and he'd found quite suddenly and inexplicably that he didn't want to be a part of making her that miserable. And once again he'd felt her moving from just within his grasp to just outside of it.

He'd been dancing on the edge of release and the change from anticipation to frustration was not one he'd been able to make gracefully. For a second he'd even considered just kissing her again, feeling her body against his, and letting go. That wouldn't have been sex, would it? It certainly wouldn't have done much for her.

But he didn't want to use her like that. He should want to, but he didn't. Somehow, he guessed, he'd come to care enough about her to not want to use her unless there was a reasonable chance that she was gaining something from it too.

He hated his own reasoning because it left him unfulfilled.

And to top it off, she didn't seem to understand. She was upset that he hadn't gone on with it. _Upset_. He'd denied himself something he wanted more than anything else for her and she was bloody _upset_? That was just typical, wasn't it? He could do nothing right by her.

Still… he couldn't let her just leave like that. She had had what seemed like an awful day and he had to try and make her feel better. Why, he had no idea—sad people usually made him want to run in the opposite direction lest they expect him to listen to their problems—but he was compelled to try and do something.

It was quite disgusting, really. Only, he wasn't disgusted. He was just frustrated and angry at himself and trying not to let her see while he offered her the only kind of comfort he really knew that didn't involve getting naked.

Why he even offered it, he didn't know. She wasn't likely to want to accept. She was upset with him for not sleeping with her, plus she didn't actually like him that well, but he found himself coaxing her into lying down next to him—which honestly didn't really help his painful state—and he found himself telling her that it would be all right, that _Theo_ would see reason in the morning and everything would be fine.

Merlin, he'd kill the bloke if he didn't fix this.

After a while, he ran out of things to say and just put his arm around her waist and looked at her wild curls at the back of her head, wondering what to do to make her relax and just go to sleep. Her body was stiff and she hadn't said a word. The silence stretched and he spent the time fighting his libido since, mad at him or not, Hermione's soft body was appealing to him in a way he found hard to ignore.

When the soft sobs started about an hour later, he suddenly didn't have the problem of his libido to worry about anymore at all.

The new problem was _not_ thinking up elaborate ways to kill Theo.

* * *

**"Hey, mate, what are you doing?" Blaise asked, visibly confused. "Now is your chance!"**

**Theo's cynical smile turned cold. "But he doesn't want that, Zabini."**

**"What?" Blaise was looking from one to the other. "You're not going to go all noble on us, are you?"**

**"Just shut up, Theo," Draco hissed, having little hope that he would.**

**"He didn't tell you?" Theo asked Blaise, hardly bothering to feign surprise. "He may have entertained the thought of dating Granger once or twice, but he never meant to even if he got the chance. Not really."**


	70. Chapter 70

**Eh, regarding the last AN: Believe me when I say that it was only directed at a couple of _really_ rude people. There was never any doubt as to what was meant with their messages. I should just ignore them, but you know how it is. Only like 1% of the readers even voice their opinions and when they do so in a rude flame, one can't help but think "and how many people _think_ like that then?" So, yeah, I know that I should ignore them, but I'm not a robot. And you don't have to like me to like my story (or vice versa).**

**ANYhoo, wank aside, I'm feeling like killing my cat. Damn nuisance that thing is. And I can't even yell at her without scaring the baby. Maybe I should throw something at her. But then I'd have to go pick it up. Oh, great, now Maz is petting her. THAT will certainly teach her not to be annoying(!) Well, at least he's telling Kupo to feel free to pull her tail...**

**How are you? Oh, you want to get to the story already and don't care about my cat? Ok, ok, I guess here it is... ;P**

**CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED FOR CLARIFICATION****. ****Sorry, and hope this helps.**

* * *

Draco woke with a start and blinked. Then he blinked again.

He was alone.

Shaking his head to clear it, he tried to remember what had happened.

Nothing, really. Nothing had happened. Hermione had come to him to look for comfort after she had had some sort of fight with Theo. Being a complete idiot, he had been eager to provide it, biting his tongue hard to avoid telling her that he thought Theo was a moron and that she'd be better off without him.

Because they might as well face it—she was better off _with_ Theo. Everybody would be better off. The prospect of Theo being removed from the equation was… scary to say the least. It was something he'd rather not think too hard about.

When did everything become so messy and complicated?

He raised his hand to rub his tired eyes and immediately noticed it.

The bracelet was gone.

Abruptly sitting up, he saw it there on his bedside table: One bracelet and one ring, clearly mocking him in all their indifferent splendor.

* * *

During the course of the day, it became more than apparent that Hermione was avoiding him. It was a little bit amusing. It wasn't as if they were usually interacting a whole lot in classes and such, and he wasn't particularly trying to corner her, but she was less than subtle about preferring to be at the other end of the room. It soon became rather clear to him that she was embarrassed about what had happened. If she wasn't careful, someone else might pick up on those vibes as well.

He wondered what bit embarrassed her more; the snogging the life out of him, the crying while he comforted her, or the falling asleep with him in his bed. His guess was the crying, but he couldn't be completely sure.

It certainly wasn't the part where she broke their agreement _and_ threw his gift back in his face. He doubted she even thought about that twice.

Ok, so, fine, she hadn't exactly thrown anything, but he'd given her that damn bracelet and ring and there was no reason for her to just leave it back in his room. Not unless she wanted to make some sort of statement.

But if he called her on it, it would seem like it mattered. While it did sort of matter, he knew it wouldn't be very wise to let it show, and he would have to approach this carefully.

He was sitting in the Slytherin common room after classes were finally out, musing about these things, when Blaise sauntered in and plopped down on a couch with a great flourish. "Ahh, finally it's the weekend," he sighed.

Draco looked up, feeling vaguely amused at the antics. "So it is. Same as every Friday."

"You lack poetry, you know that?" Blaise complained.

"Stating that it's the weekend is poetry now?"

"Poetry is what you make of it!" Another great flourish.

"It's not as much what you're making of it as much as what you claim it is," Draco felt the need to point out.

"Same difference, innit?" Blaise was looking much too smug.

"You're in a disgustingly good mood. What gives?"

"It's the weekend!"

Draco snorted. The other boy was apparently not going to cooperate. "Right."

"Oh, come on, Draco. You have to take pleasure in the little things. No fun in brooding all the time."

"I don't brood." Draco was slightly offended.

"Sure you do, and I don't blame you, but you can't do it all the time."

"I do _not_ brood. I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

Draco didn't answer.

"If you're thinking about _her_, you're brooding," Blaise said, sounding smug again. The bugger.

"You're annoying, you know that?" Draco asked, letting his weariness show.

"Yes. But I'm going to indulge in your broodiness. Tell me what you're thinking about."

"No."

"I already know it's about her."

"Then why do you ask?"

Blaise sighed theatrically. "Specifics, mate. I need specifics."

"Why would I give you specifics?"

"So I can sympathize and help you plot." He was sounding impatient, as if Draco was being contrary just to spite him. Which he sort of was, but that was beside the point.

Draco hesitated. He didn't need Blaise to commiserate with him and he shuddered to think what Blaise might 'plot'. Yet, in a strange way, telling someone about some of what happened last night did seem appealing. Even if leaving some things out was probably a good idea.

"She came to see you last night, didn't she?" Blaise asked with a shake of his head. "She claimed she was going to see Theo."

"She went to see Theo first. Then me." There was no reason to deny that part.

"So, what happened?"

"She stayed."

Blaise jerked upright so fast that Draco thought he might have strained something. "No _way_! You…" He conspicuously looked around, no doubt signaling to anyone with any interest that this conversation would be interesting to listen in on. Very clever. Fortunately, there were only two third years currently playing Wizard Chess at the other end of the room, and they were much too interested in surviving the year to be eavesdropping. "You _slept_ together?"

Draco couldn't help a rather ironic twitch of his lips. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We just slept."

Blaise looked genuinely puzzled. "Why would she do that?"

Draco shook his head. That was for another time. "That's not important. The real question is: Why would I even _want_ her to stay like that? I mean, I know why, I just… don't know…" He shook his head again. This was difficult to explain. It was no wonder that Blaise didn't understand.

"What do you mean? Of course you'd want her to stay when you're in love with her. Even if it's just to sleep. Sleeping can be nice. I just don't understand why _she_ would stay."

Draco frowned. "What?"

"I said, I just don't unders—"

"I'm not," Draco interrupted. "Not… _that_."

Blaise opened his mouth as if to say something and then frowned and shut it again. "No," he muttered. "No, he can't be that dense."

"I'm not dense!" Draco was slightly offended.

"Good. So you weren't denying being in love with her?"

"I'm _not_!"

Blaise's jaw dropped open. "Merlin, you must be the thickest bloke in our year. Even if Goyle hadn't been held back, I'm fairly sure nobody would have been able to challenge you."

"Oh, ha ha." Draco scowled.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"It's obsession, lust and, yeah, probably infatuation, but nothing more," he replied with all the conviction he had in him.

"You really are serious, then?" Blaise's eyes were wide. It would be comical if it wasn't so _annoying_.

Draco leaned back, his lips pressing together in an annoyed frown. "You're beginning to repeat yourself."

Blaise shook his head as if having trouble comprehending. "I hate to break it to you, Draco, but everyone knows you're in love with her."

This brought him up short. "What?"

"Well, probably not _everyone_, but I know it, Theo knows it, and I'm sure both Pansy and Astoria have a pretty good idea as well. Why either one of them still wants to date you is beyond me, to tell you the truth. Granger _should_ know it, but she seems to be as much in denial about your feelings as you are… and maybe her friends know too, I really couldn't say."

"So you're all gosipping about me?"

"We don't need to. It's so damn obvious! I can't believe you haven't realized. In fact, I don't believe it."

Draco swallowed as he was being stared down. So maybe he had known that perhaps it was a little bit more than infatuation. Maybe he was well aware that some of his urges that seemed to aim towards two things—keeping her happy and getting her for himself, and in that order too—were highly uncharacteristic for him and couldn't be explained. "It'll pass," he rasped.

Blaise shrugged rather nonchalantly. "No doubt, given enough time. People fall out of love all the time. But that doesn't change the truth of _now_."

Draco felt his panic building. "You can't tell anyone," he said with an urgency he knew was rather redundant.

"I don't have to."

"I'm serious," Draco stressed. "Not a word."

This made Blaise give him a scrutinizing look. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he muttered, looking away.

"What he means to say," a cool voice interjected, "is 'nothing that he'll own up to'."

Draco shot up and whirled around to face Theo, while Blaise merely rolled his eyes. "Why not own the obvious?"

"Indeed," Theo said. "Why not?"

From the slightly smug look on his face, the bastard knew exactly why.

"What about you?" Draco angrily retorted. "You _dump_ her just like that and then spend your time eavesdropping rather than fixing things?"

"Wait." Blaise was sitting up straight. "They broke up? Why didn't you tell me that?"

Theo smiled rather cynically. "Nobody really knows about that yet, Draco. And I noticed _how_ you didn't speak to her today"—oh bother, Draco had _known_ someone would pick up on her embarrassment—"so I can only assume she went by your room last night," Theo continued. "Did you suitably lick her wounds?"

Draco's jaw clenched, his hands fisted, and his eyes narrowed. He did not like the way Theo was talking about Hermione. Even if he was right. "Nothing happened," he tersely replied.

"No, I suppose not. You don't seem to have the guts to go through with anything."

Draco took a deep breath, fighting down his anger. So Theo was baiting him. Who could blame him? He was jealous and he had reason to be. "Nothing happened," he repeated, glad he was a competent liar. "It's you she wants to be with, so why don't you just go and make up with her?"

"Hey, mate, what are you doing?" Blaise asked, visibly confused. "Now is your chance!"

Theo's cynical smile turned cold. "But he doesn't want that, Zabini."

"What?" Blaise was looking from one to the other. "You're not going to go all noble on us, are you?"

"Just shut up, Theo," Draco hissed, having little hope that he would.

"He didn't tell you?" Theo asked Blaise, hardly bothering to feign surprise. "He may have entertained the thought of dating Granger once or twice, but he never meant to even if he got the chance. Not really."

"But that's all changed!" Blaise objected. "Hasn't it?"

"I don't know." Theo's cool voice was jarring to Draco. "Has it changed, then, Draco? Are you going to do something about this or are you just going to continue to lead her on and ruin her other relationships without ever living up to any expectations you might give her?"

Draco glanced at Blaise, whose face was a study in incomprehension. "It doesn't matter," he weakly replied, not understanding why Theo and Blaise would put him on the spot like this. "It's a non-issue. We all know she doesn't want that."

"Really?" Theo asked. "So, there's nothing to indicate any kind of interest from her side? Nothing to suggest she might get hurt?"

Draco opened his mouth to reject it, but then he unconsciously hesitated a moment. Had there been any indication? She had come to his room, after all, and she had initiated intimacies. She had stayed. "Of course not!" he hurriedly said when he realized he'd paused for too long. No, she had just meant to use him.

"You bastard," Blaise said in a very low voice, as the hesitation made him realize the truth. "You piece of scum."

Draco was feeling very much on the spot. "You don't even _like_ her!"

Blaise stood. "But you do! You love her! And this is how you plan on treating her? I thought she was being a stupid stuck-up bitch, but all along she was the smart one! She _knew_ she couldn't trust you!"

"You don't know everything…" Draco began.

"I know enough!"

"You can't seriously be upset about something that will most likely never even happen?"

"Your intentions are enough. What does this say about you? About how much people who care about you, who _you_ care about, can trust you?" Blaise was livid.

"Come on, you know I can't take up with a Mudblood," Draco tried.

"_You_ would still call _her_ a _Mudblood_?" Blaise shook his head and with a disgusted sneer he turned his back on Draco and walked out.

Draco was beyond confused and very uncomfortable. "Why does he care so much?"

"Because he sees his own fuck-up in you. And because you're being a total git."

Well, Theo had a point there. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How did you know?" he asked. "I didn't tell anyone about this. I thought it was rather irrelevant. Apparently I was wrong."

"You didn't fight nearly hard enough for her, and it wasn't very difficult to look up your family's history," Theo calmly said. "Falling for a Muggleborn witch sure could get expensive for you. I figured you'd choose the money. Especially considering how you've been acting. You've been rather vague for someone who usually goes for what he wants."

Draco didn't like the way Theo was stating these things. As if it was a _bad_ thing that he didn't try to go for his ex. As if it was even contemptible. "There's just no point in starting something if you aren't prepared to go all the way," he said in his own defense, feeling rather weary with the onslaught.

"No, there isn't."

Merlin, would he stop being so curt and cold? "I mean, I know it's only if it gets _serious_…" Draco struggled to explain.

"Marriage, to be exact." Theo's own face remained impassive while Draco flinched at the words.

"Yeah, but when that's not ever going to be an option—"

"Unless you're willing to give up a sizable trust fund, of course."

"It's just, it's all that You-Know-Who hasn't been able to touch, and it's not just for me!" Draco's frustration was coming through, and he knew it. "When I get it in a few years, my mother will be able to go back to her old lifestyle as well!"

"And keeping your mother filthy rich is all that matters, of course."

Draco scowled. "It's not like it would ever get to that, anyway."

"Which is why it makes perfect sense to avoid it."

"Damn it, Theo, what do you want from me? I'm not going to begin messing around with anyone who isn't eligible! The lines are blurred enough as it is!"

"Well, if your resolve is that steely, then nothing should budge you. Congratulations."

Theo's cold gaze made Draco painfully aware of what had almost happened last night. What _would_ have happened if he hadn't been so sure that Hermione and Theo could still fix things. He knew that he was allowing too much to happen, but she had always made it very clear exactly what she thought of him. When she despised him so much as a person, he wasn't hurting her, was he?

"Yeah…" he muttered as a vague response, looking away from Theo rather awkwardly. "So, aren't you happy knowing this?"

"No," Theo replied. "No. I'm not happy. You saw to that." Then he, too, walked out, leaving Draco to feel rather rotten.

* * *

**"And who are the two of you to talk, huh?" Hermione asked, fighting to stay in control of her temper. "One of you doesn't give a shit about hurting a girl who clearly loves him and the other one actually fancies a Slytherin girl himself and thinks that no one notices!"**

**Harry blinked and then looked at Ron. "What?"**

**Ron's face was crimson going on puce. "Nothing. She's bluffing."**

**Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.**

**Harry glanced at her for just a second, before looking back at Ron. "Who?" His voice was colored by curiosity rather than censure. Go figure.**


	71. Chapter 71

**Huh. Where did the time go? I was certain I wasn't late this time. Oh, well...**

**Uni started up again. Am following three courses while taking care of my infant son. Pesky real life.  
**

* * *

Things were beginning to feel rather unreal for Hermione. First of all, Theo was acting as if hardly anything had happened. Granted, this shouldn't surprise her, but somehow it just seemed wrong. Second of all, Malfoy wasn't bothering her. She had been almost certain he would after everything that happened in his room and the way she had left, but he, too, chose to act as if nothing was the matter.

The real surprise, though—the thing that made her suspect that something must have gone horribly wrong in Potions, or possibly someone did a mind-altering spell—was the third thing.

Blaise Zabini was civil to her.

In fact, if the very concept wouldn't have made her brains melt, she would have almost thought that he was being _nice_.

So, obviously, something was up, and it was time to be on her guard. It was never a good sign when a Slytherin was being nice to her. Just look at all the trouble it had landed her in so far.

She just wished they would stop centering their games on her. She was tired of it. She was tired of trying to work out what their motives were. She was tired of odd attractions that should never have been. But most of all… she was just tired.

_Are you also tired of the kissing, then?_

She flushed and unconsciously tried to cool her cheeks with her hands. What had she been _thinking_? Going to Draco's room after what happened with Theo… She should have known.

Maybe she had sort of known. After all, she'd been rather quick to try and soothe her own bruised feelings with the aid of his lips.

What she _hadn't_ known was that he wouldn't go through with it. He had seemed like he really wanted to. No, more than that, she _knew_ he had really wanted to. But still he had stopped.

This was really humiliating but, truth be told, she was getting pretty used to that by now. There was nothing like getting either physically or emotionally involved with a Slytherin to ensure your constant and never-ending humiliation.

Why she had decided to stay after that, she didn't even know herself. She honestly wasn't certain. The best she could come up with was that he had been right; she had been in a very emotional state and as much as she loved her friends, they wouldn't be able to not judge her relationship with Theo and would just give her their unwelcome opinions on the matter. She had somehow known that Draco wouldn't and had allowed herself to take comfort in him.

Once she'd awoken to find her emotions back in check, she had panicked. She didn't know what Dracos take was on the whole thing and, well, she didn't really _want_ to know. So she'd removed his bracelet from his wrist, leaving it behind, and snuck out like a thief in the night, almost certainly annoying the heck out of him.

So why wasn't he bothering her now?

* * *

It wasn't easy being him, Draco decided for the umpteenth time. Never mind things like dark wizards trying to force him to do their bidding, his father still trying to please that dark wizard, and his mother and himself being entirely dependent on an Order that despised everything they stood for.

No, even on the level of what should have been _normalcy_, he had it hard.

He desperately lusted for a girl he couldn't actually pursue. So, ok, maybe that was tied in with everything else, but the fact of the matter remained—he had to leave her alone and he did not want to.

To be quite honest with himself, the only reason why he _did_ leave her alone was because of that tiny opening she had shown him the other night. Despite everything Blaise seemed to believe of him, he wasn't actually interested in hurting her. She had seen enough hurt lately without him adding to it. It had just never been a possibility that he _would._

He wished she'd get back with Theo. As much as he hated seeing them together it just made everything that much easier. He'd be constantly reminded and she'd not even bother to look his way anyway.

"I don't get why you're being such an absolute git!" Blaise was saying. Lately, he only even bothered to talk to Draco if he was cussing him out. It was getting old.

Truly, was there really a need for Blaise to walk up to Draco in the _hallway_ just to keep this up? Of course, they were both going to the same classes, but still… a little peace and quiet at least between classes would be nice.

"Will you let it go?" Draco wearily asked.

"No."

"Look, I told you already; nothing happened, and nothing _will_ happen!"

"You've been leading her on." Blaise wasn't one to let go.

"And you care _why_?" Draco asked. "She's a Muggleborn. She's a Gryffindor. She's an annoying know-it-all. She's _Granger_! And you, my dear friend, are _not_ anyone's champion, especially not hers."

Blaise, unfortunately, chose not to take any offense but continued to stay on the subject. "You're crossing the line with her."

"I'm not you. She's not Tracey. She's not in love with me and I'm not doing _anything._" He was getting a headache.

"You should, though. You should just come out and ask her out. Theo and I would still stand by you."

"_Theo_?" This stopped Draco short. Why would _Theo_ support him dating _Granger_?

"Yeah, he'd respect you a lot more, you know. He understands that you can't necessarily control how you feel, but he's angry that you sabotaged his chances without even wanting a chance to get her for yourself."

"I didn't—"

"Yeah, you did."

Draco sighed. Yeah, he did. "But don't you see?"

"No, but you're going to try and make me. In vain, I might add."

Damn straight he was. "You're acting as if it's the end of the world that I choose not to risk the money. As if she has feelings when she doesn't. As if I won't get past mine when I _will_. The fact of the matter is that at the end of the day, it probably wouldn't have worked out anyway, and I'm just saving everyone a world of trouble."

"But what if you don't feel that way again?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"What if she's The One?"

Draco shook his head, unable to believe he was hearing this from _Blaise Zabini_, the biggest whore Hogwarts had ever seen. "I don't believe in that stuff."

"Yeah, just look at how many times you've been in love thus far."

"I'm _seventeen_."

"What _if_ you never feel for anyone else what you feel for her? Are you really willing to risk that?"

Draco didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Then you're a fool and you deserve what you get. It's just _money_."

"It's a _lot_ of money."

"Money won't buy you happiness." Blaise was wearing his stubborn pout. He was such a girl sometimes.

"Who's to say I would find happiness with her? Even if I managed to get her interest it could end really badly. _After_ I lost the money. While it may not be able to buy happiness, it can buy a lot of things to help the happiness along."

"You're so cynical. I don't get it. Your parents love each other."

"My parents weren't each other's first choice. They worked on their affections."

"You're being impossible."

Draco let out a huff of air, trying to contain his annoyance. "And you're projecting. She's _not_ Tracey. She doesn't give a damn about me; she never has, and she never will. Why won't you just accept that? I have!"

"I guess… because she went to your room? And because I'd like to see you happy for once." Blaise shrugged.

Draco's head was positively throbbing. "You really can be such a girl sometimes, Zabini," he said. "Can we stop with the touchy-feely stuff?"

"You're a git."

"What else is new?"

Blaise frowned rather disapprovingly, but refrained from replying since they were now at their destination.

Small blessings.

* * *

Hermione bit into her orange segment, trying to ignore Harry and Ron. She _hated_ the way they had been looking at her and acting around her ever since Theo broke up with her. It was as if they were afraid she'd go into hysterics at any moment. Even now, just sitting in the common room they were acting almost skittish.

Yes, it was upsetting to be broken up. Yes, it was even worse when she had to work together with him and endure his indifferene. Yes, she'd even been spending some time in private desperately trying to get over it all. But she had _not_ had any public emotional outbursts and she didn't plan on having any, either.

At least not unless they kept doing this. It grated on her nerves.

Harry squirmed in his seat. "So, um, is everything going ok? With you, I mean."

Oh, so he was trying to be understanding now? That should go over well. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine." Ok, the statement was a bit overkill, but she wasn't actually feeling all that stable today. Maybe she should just go to bed.

"She's _fine_, Harry," Ron wearily said and then shrunk under the heat of her glare.

_Thank you, Mr. Obvious._

"Ok. Good," Harry muttered, looking away.

"How's Ginny?" Hermione asked, full well knowing that the bugger was still punishing his girlfriend. She popped the last orange segment in her mouth, watching her friends.

Harry shrugged. "She's ok, I guess."

Ron snorted. "Yeah. Right." He didn't look too happy about the mention of his sister. Apparently he hadn't found it in him to confront Harry yet.

Well, maybe Hermione would save him the trouble. She carefully swallowed her orange.

"What is it exactly she did?" she asked. "So she had a fling with Zabini in the past, long before the two of you got together. Boohoo."

Both Ron and Harry looked mildly shocked at her statement.

"Um…" Harry said. "She hid it from me, for one thing."

"She thought you might overreact," Hermione pointed out. "And, Merlin, did _you_ prove her wrong."

Harry shook his head. "I really don't think it's any of—"

"It's because he's Slytherin, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "You're as prejudiced as the worst of them, you know. You're also not-so-secretly glad that Theo and I aren't together anymore, aren't you?"

Harry's eyes had narrowed but he kept silent. A sure sign that she'd pushed a button.

"You know what?" Hermione said getting to her feet. "Harry? Get over it. If you want to finish with Ginny, _finish_ it, but don't blame it on her. She did nothing wrong. This whole thing is stupid. There's nothing wrong with seeing a Slytherin."

"Yeah?" Harry asked in a much too calm voice. "They're so very nice, then? Is that why he finished with you after only a few weeks?"

"Harry—" Ron began.

"Sometimes relationships just don't work!" Hermione pointed out.

"Or maybe he just had his fun."

Hermione's hands clenched. She refused to take the words at their crudest meaning, because if she did, she might have to hex the living daylight out of one of her best friends. "Even if that were true," she said, "that would have _nothing_ to do with his house. And why keep punishing Ginny for something that happened before you were even together?"

"Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the house," Harry conceded too off-handedly to really sound like he meant it. "It has to do with the _people_ in that house you seem to choose. Zabini is one of the worst of his kind. And when she told me she _slept_ with him? I had to wonder just what exactly is wrong with her."

"Don't go there, Harry," Ron interjected. "That's my sister you're talking about."

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered. "But I've _watched_ Theodore Nott since the break-up and he doesn't seem affected at all. He doesn't care about you, Hermione. He never cared about you. He was toying with you all along."

Hermione's fisted hands clenched even tighter. "You don't have a clue what you're on about!" They were talking about _Theo_ for crying out loud. Since when was he easy to read?

"But he's right," Ron muttered so softly it was barely audible, before raising his voice just a little bit. "We watch you hurt and him… he seems to not care at all. What do you think that does to us?"

"And who are the two of you to talk, huh?" Hermione asked, fighting to stay in control of her temper. "One of you doesn't give a shit about hurting a girl who clearly loves him and the other one actually fancies a Slytherin girl himself and thinks that no one notices!"

Harry blinked and then looked at Ron. "What?"

Ron's face was crimson going on puce. "Nothing. She's bluffing."

Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

Harry glanced at her for just a second, before looking back at Ron. "Who?" His voice was colored by curiosity rather than censure. Go figure.

"No one," Ron insisted, sending Hermione a betrayed look, before murmuring some vague excuse and fleeing to his dormitory.

Harry turned back to Hermione. "Who?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she smugly asked before flouncing off.

* * *

Hermione closed her book and began rubbing her temples. Libraries were nice. Books were nice. But spending all of your time at the library hiding was actually rather wearying. Maybe she should just stop hiding and go about her business the way she used to.

She could pretend she was over Theo, sure. She could also act like nothing had happened around Harry and Ron. It would just be horribly awkward. She still stood by everything she'd said to Harry, but she was feeling a little guilty for embarrassing Ron. He hadn't deserved that. If he was moving on it was a _good_ thing.

Sighing, she decided that it probably was time to get back.

No sooner had she gotten to her feet, though, before someone very blond entered the library and began speaking to a Ravenclaw boy. Great. Not really wanting to confront Malfoy, Hermione ducked for cover behind a few shelves, and then proceeded to peek out. Malfoy wasn't really all that social with the people in the other houses, so what was this?

With some annoyance, she saw Malfoy note something down in a small pocket book. So he was functioning as Deputy, then? For a person that she'd just spent the better part of two hours in a room with? Great. Just great. She just loved it when someone ignored her existence.

Never mind the horrible embarrassment she had felt when Dean had told her that the boys' showers weren't working and she'd had to go check—earning some strange looks—and then inform both Filch and McGonagall—earning some more strange looks and raised eyebrows.

Come to think of it, considering all the worse possibilities there were, maybe it was a good thing that he was telling Malfoy rather than her.

The conversation seemed to end and she ducked back, deciding to take a good long walk around the stacks before attempting to sneak out. Maybe she'd even find something interesting to read.

She was nothing if not crafty.

When she turned around the first corner, however, she realized that she'd been found out. A certain young, blond wizard was already there, waiting for her.

* * *

**"Stop it!" he hissed. "Just… _stop_ it! I'm tired of this. I'm tired of almost getting what I want and then having to stop because of you. And I'm tired of you _never_ acknowledging that I _do_ stop. I'm tired of having to toss off, knowing that I could have had the real thing. Next time you come to my room, I'm not stopping, all right? Next time you come to my room… we'll both know what you're there for."**


	72. Chapter 72

**I don't have an A/N. Making an A/N about not having an A/N amuses me.**

* * *

"Since when have you become such a coward?" Draco asked Hermione, apparently abandoning all niceties.

But then again, Hermione didn't suppose he had cornered her here at the back of the library to be _nice_.

"I'm just looking for something to read!" she replied. She didn't particularly care if he believed her or not; she just wanted to make it clear that she didn't want to talk to him.

She moved to walk around him, but he stepped to the side, blocking her path. "You're being ridiculous, Granger," he informed her with a frown. "Nothing happened."

Right. Getting half-naked while snogging was nothing. Maybe to him it was. "Good. Then there's _nothing_ to talk about."

"I don't like your attitude."

She gaped. _He_ didn't like _her_ attitude? Her eyes narrowed. "That's a pity for you, _Malfoy_."

Suddenly, she found her back pressed against a bookcase, the edges of the shelves and the spines of several hefty volumes hurting her just enough to be uncomfortable. She blinked and then frowned, struggling to push away without actually touching him too much. The damn git had a pretty good hold on her upper arms, though.

She considered going for her wand and casting a nasty hex on him.

"Stop it!" he hissed. "Just… _stop_ it! I'm tired of this. I'm tired of almost getting what I want and then having to stop because of you. And I'm tired of you _never_ acknowledging that I _do_ stop. I'm tired of having to toss off, knowing that I could have had the real thing. Next time you come to my room, I'm not stopping, all right? Next time you come to my room… we'll both know what you're there for."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat in anger, indignation and just a little bit embarrassment at what he was saying. "Why would I go there again?" she asked. She almost added something about how he'd never been able to deliver before, but decided that it sounded too much like an invitation and bit her tongue instead.

"Because you can't seem to stay away, can you?" he asked in a low voice.

The conceited git.

"So, basically, if I should ever come to your room again for any reason, you're going to rape me?" she asked, deliberately provoking him.

Anger flared in his eyes. "I'm sick of you accusing me of _that_ too," he bit out.

He moved closer to her, lowering his head so she could feel his breath on her neck. She cursed every deity known to man when her pulse—through no volition of her own—noticably sped up. She was just nervous, that was all.

She could feel him smirk, probably misinterpreting her rapid heartbeat like she'd known he would. _Git._ "It wouldn't be rape," he murmured.

On some level, she was afraid that he was right. Her body _did _seem to have a mind of its own around him lately. Damn all those teenage hormones. "It is as long as one says no…" she pointed out, just to argue with him.

"I'd have you screaming yes," he purred. "I'd have you feeling so good that you'd never want to leave my bed again. How many goes do you think we could have in one night before passing out? I always wondered…"

She had to get out of there. _Now_. Fumbling just a little bit, she got a hold of her wand. "If you do not let me go this instant, I'll have _you_ screaming!" She jabbed at him rather ineffectively, considering the hold he had on her arms.

He looked down to see where her wand was pointed and then grinned of all things. "Damn," he muttered, sounding wondering rather than angry.

"I am _not_ kidding."

"I know," he replied, finally letting go of her. "But neither was I. Come down to my room again and I really won't answer for the consequences."

* * *

Draco remained standing long after the bane of his existence had fled. That encounter, making sure she'd stay away from him, really shouldn't have turned him on like that. He'd been so intoxicated by having her so close that he'd almost forgotten the purpose of it all.

To issue an invitation that would definitely repel her.

It hadn't gone quite as planned. Sure, she'd been repelled, but rather than implying they could rut like animals, he had begun talking about the pleasure he wanted to give her. His fantasies. The thought of _that_ making her run off wasn't exactly pleasant. Especially when he felt anything but disgusted himself.

Damn this incessant want. He didn't want to want her. And even if it was true that he was… having other feelings as well, he didn't want that either. That was what Blaise didn't understand: Draco did not _want_ any of this and would give anything for it to just go away. He would give anything to be at peace again, to not care about someone who didn't care about him, to not worry about any ramifications of this want.

And, damn him, but in spite of his own reluctance, he just kept feeling like it would be easier if she weren't so _easy_ to repel.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and was making his way out when he noticed Astoria at a table, studying with a couple of other fifth years. He stopped and watched her for a few minutes. It really was too bad he didn't have more than friendly feelings for her. She would go for the pureblood heritance bit. Unfortunately, he wanted a little bit more than that.

Making a decision, he walked up to her. "Have a minute?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, but followed him to the relative privacy behind a few bookcases.

"Good thinking, Malfoy!" she murmured when they were out of earshot. "Going off to snog here _would_ seem likely, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah…" he frowned. "I need you to break up with me."

For a moment she didn't reply, but then she quietly said, "What?"

"You said that when the time came, you'd break up with me. I think that would be now."

"But it's only been a few weeks!" she objected. "I could use a little longer to—"

"This isn't working for me," he interrupted, studying the nearest bookshelf. "This… this _thing_ isn't doing what I want it to. I have no reason to go on and you got what you wanted. So you're breaking it off now."

When a few seconds went by without a response from her, he turned back to look at her and was slightly taken aback by the look on her face. It seemed oddly frozen. And her eyes… what—? He frowned.

"Ok…" she said in a bit of a rush, looking away as he began scrutinizing her. "I think you're being hasty, but ok. It's not working. Fine. Can't help that, now, can we?"

"Astoria…"

"So! How do you want me to do this? Just tell people it's over or want me to make a scene?" She was fidgeting with her hands and visibly avoiding his eyes.

"However you want. Look…"

"Ok!"

She tried to brush past him, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing."

He very lightly shook his head. "Don't give me that."

She pulled free and angrily turned on him. "Then don't be such a goddam idiot!"

That blindsided him. Now it was his time to try to find something to say but only ending up with "What?"

She took a deep breath. "Never mind."

On one hand he was feeling frustrated that she wouldn't tell him, but on the other hand… he already sort of knew. The look in her eyes. The hurt she was trying to hide.

This farce had been real to her.

It had not been what he had signed up for. She had tricked him. _He_ was the real victim here!

… But she was the one looking the way he felt much of the time.

Shit.

"I honestly had no idea," he muttered.

"Of course you didn't. You never do seem to get your head out of your arse long enough to notice the people around you, do you?"

He swallowed. It seemed like he just couldn't stop being a git no matter what he did. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She tossed back her hair. "It's not your pity I want."

He didn't know what to respond to that. This was horribly awkward.

"Besides," she added, "I just lost the battle. Not the war."

And with that she walked off, leaving him to figure out what she meant by that.

He was very afraid that he knew.

* * *

"Who is it?"

"Let it go, Harry," Ron groaned.

"Ok, you don't have to tell me."

Ron sighed with relief. "Thanks, mate."

"But if you were my _friend_, you would." Harry was obviously having a Slytherin moment.

Ron gaped in astonishment. "I— You— Bloody— That's not—" he sputtered.

"And if you were _his_ friend, you'd respect his need for privacy," Hermione butted in as she was sitting down to join in on their breakfast. "Sorry about this, Ron."

"You should be," he grumbled. "But thanks. What she said!" The last bit was directed at Harry.

Harry pouted. "But why can't I know who you have a crush on? It's not Millicent Bulstrode, is it?"

Ron just stared.

"Oh, isn't that just shallow of both of you!" Hermione said, feeling rather miffed. "Just because she's a bit on the heavy side—"

"Hey, didn't see you having a go at Crabbe while you were making your way through the Slytherin boys!" Ron objected.

Hermione scowled back. "I'm on _your_ side, you know."

"Oh, right," he muttered. "But still."

"Please tell me who it is?" Harry tried again.

Both Ron and Hermione glared at him.

"All right," he muttered. "If you're both going to be so mean about it, I'd better go see to my own affairs." With a meaningful look, he got up, snatched a bun, and left.

"Did he mean—?" Hermione scouted the table for the youngest Weasley, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Ron shrugged. "It finally got through his thick skull that he'd better somehow sort things out with Ginny or we'd all be mad at him forever. Besides, he loves her really. He just didn't like to be told she'd been with someone he disliked so much. I think."

Hermione rather graciously ignored any mentions of thick skulls, but otherwise tended to agree. Harry was just being a boy about things. "So, what's the deal with you and—?"

"There is no deal."

"You don't have to lie to me."

He scowled. "No… there really is no deal. How did you know anything anyway?"

Hermione sniffed. "Oh, please. It wasn't hard to figure out for anyone that knew you and had eyes in their head."

"Yeah? Then how come it took you so long to figure out that I fancied _you_?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep red. She really didn't like being called on these things. "I knew. I just waited for _you_ to acknowledge it."

"Maybe at first, but when I did acknowledge it, you seemed to want to avoid mentions of it."

She had avoided it because she had spent the last three years feeling guilty about going too far with Victor Krum at the Yule Ball in fourth year. She didn't want to bring that up again, though. Ron had already learned that she had been with someone else when Malfoy had tried to ruin her friendships and she had been wearing the bracelet. He didn't need the reminder now. "You're changing the subject," she pointed out. "We were talking about your _current_ crush!"

"Who says I'm limited to one?" he asked. But when she just frowned at him, he relented. "She won't even look at me twice, so it's really nothing."

Hermione frowned. "Really?"

Ron shrugged. "I'm not the most fancy or the most suave of people. Nothing at all like that sod of an ex of hers. I guess I just really know how to pick girls that are out of my league."

"Stop it!" Hermione said rather sharply. "There are no leagues. It's just not always meant to be. Now, are you _sure_…"

"Tried to talk to her. She completely snubbed me. Made fun of me in front of her friends. Yeah, I'm sure."

"That was rather rude of her, wasn't it?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose.

He shrugged again. "Was rather expecting it, actually. She does stuff like that, but I expect it's to keep up some sort of appearance. When she's alone and thinks nobody's watching, she looks sort of sad…"

"Oh, my," Hermione breathed. He'd really been watching the girl, hadn't he? Of course, she'd picked up on a few of those looks, but not enough to realize just how bad he had it.

"Yeah," Ron muttered. "I reckon she's still in love with the bastard. I don't see why. Dumping her like that…"

"You know that it doesn't always make sense who you like."

Ron shook his head. "I would never treat a girl like that, yet you all seem to gravitate towards _him_. It's not fair."

"I'm not—"

Ron's glare silenced her.

"Don't think me a greater fool that I am," he quietly said, and then he got up and left too.

Hermione found herself speechless.

* * *

It probably wasn't required. In fact, Hermione was fairly certain it wasn't. But finding herself feeling a bit uncomfortable holding on to Theo's necklace, she decided to give it back to him.

It had been his mother's. She was certain there would be another girl he'd rather give it to later.

Yet, she was still feeling raw and really wasn't up to facing Theo yet, so she opted to just put it on his desk. He would find it and he would understand and they wouldn't have to talk about it.

Everyone would win.

She was just sifting through some scrolls of parchment on her desk when Theo entered, half an hour early according to when she'd _thought_ he'd be here.

Ok, awkward, but she'd just pretend he wasn't there and then leave the room as soon as she could without looking like she was running away. Yes, good plan.

He went over to his desk and then froze in his tracks for a solid minute. Just staring.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said, making Hermione jump.

"W-what?"

"I shouldn't have… done it… like that. I'm sorry." He looked over at her. "I lost my head."

Theo losing his head? Wasn't that an oxymoron? "It's ok," she muttered. No, it really wasn't, but she couldn't say that without getting into this whole discussion that she didn't want to get into.

"You don't know how difficult some of this has been for me," he continued.

No, she really didn't, because he never shared his thoughts and feelings when it mattered.

She didn't reply.

"To want something and to watch it slip away…" his voice was almost a whisper.

"Well, you gave it the last _push_," Hermione rather bluntly reminded him, unable to listen to any more of this. "Did you have a point?"

He sighed. "This is yours." He scooped up the necklace and went over and dropped it down in front of her. "I don't want it back."

She pushed it back towards him. "I don't want it either."

The shove with which he returned it was so violent that Hermione jumped again.

"I don't care if you never wear it again," he hissed. "But it was a gift. I even told you why I wanted you to have it. You accepted at the time. Throw it away if you can't stand the reminder, but don't bother me with it ever again!" Then he abruptly left without doing any of the work he'd probably come here to do in the first place.

Hermione stared after him in shock long after he was gone.

* * *

**Hermione scowled and picked up the robes to put them away. "That's none of your business. _Why_ are you here?"**

**"Because McGonagall wants me to die." He handed her the note.**

**"Oh, ok." She took the note from him.**

**"You're not even going to ask _why_ she wants me to die?" he complained, sitting down in her only chair.**

**She shrugged. "Not really. It's a common enough reaction." She patted his shoulder.**


	73. Chapter 73

**I wish I could just ignore life and write fan fiction instead.**

* * *

Weren't the school days supposed to be a fun time?

Draco for one couldn't wait to be done and get away from Hogwarts and all of the problems he'd made for himself.

Of course, leaving school meant going into voluntary isolation alone with his _mother_. He loved his mother, naturally, but he could imagine much more interesting things to do with his eighteen-year-old self than hiding out in a secure cottage alone with her and no real contact with anyone else.

Weren't the good guys supposed to vanquish The Dark Lord so he wouldn't have to hide, anyway?

They were sure taking their sweet time doing that.

Since he still had almost five months left here, however, he supposed he would have to deal with his problems.

Dealing naturally meaning 'avoiding any unpleasantries'. So, currently he was avoiding Theo, Granger and Astoria. Pansy too, although she seemed to be getting on fine without him. He couldn't quite decide whether he was avoiding Blaise as well. Considering how little he wanted to listen to Blaise's dating advice, he supposed he was.

Basically, he was avoiding everyone he liked.

That sucked.

He was currently sitting in an abandoned common room late at night because he found himself unable to sleep. It being the weekend, sleeping in wouldn't be a problem, but he'd just been feeling rather restless in his room earlier and decided to come out here to read.

Honestly, he preferred not to spend any waking time around his bed. His memory of the last encounter was much too vivid. He frequently caught himself wishing she'd come back, but it didn't take a genius to figure that she wouldn't. Staying away was the smart thing to do. For both of them.

Damn hormones.

With an annoyed growling sound he got up. It really was time to go to sleep or suffer trying.

He had just reached his door and was about to open it when he heard another door softly open and close further down the hall, followed by light footsteps. Feeling rather puzzled, he hesitated, waiting to see who it was. When he did see, his jaw dropped.

"Oops," she muttered, fidgeting a bit.

He cleared his throat. "Mind telling me what you're up to, Davis?" he asked.

She stuck her nose in the air. "You're not the boss of me, Malfoy."

No, he wasn't. But he really couldn't decide whether he hoped Tracey Davis had come from Blaise's or someone else's room.

He couldn't help his frown. "If you were at Blaise's, I don't understand why he hasn't said anything."

The girl blushed and looked away. "Keeping a low profile."

Something clicked. Something really ugly that made him want to shake the innocent-looking little bint in front of him until it clicked for her too.

"You're using him."

"No, I'm not." The way her blush deepened belied her words.

Draco leaned his shoulder against the cold stone wall and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at her. "You'd think you didn't understand what that feels like. I'm actually beginning to think that you really don't know the feeling but have just been playing him all along."

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open with indignation. "He—" She stopped and looked around, then took a step closer and lowered her voice. "_He_ was the one who wanted this. He said it would be ok just… being what it was. He wouldn't leave me alone! What would you expect me to do?" At the end, her voice was just a hiss.

"I'd expect you not to take advantage of someone just to get your own jollies. At least not him. What is this? Revenge? You should know by now that he's sorry and wants _more_ from you than the occasional tumble."

"Sorry doesn't make things right," she muttered.

"So it _is_ revenge, then?"

"No, it…" She sighed and closed her eyes for a second. "You really don't think he can handle it?"

"He can handle it. But you're misleading him if you're not serious about it."

"But I _told_ him—"

"Before or after you jumped into bed with him again?"

Her mouth turned into a tight, narrow line. He had managed to annoy her. He didn't particularly care, though.

"I get your point, Malfoy."

"Do you? Do you really?" he asked. "Because just because he's easy to get into bed doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings, Davis."

"You seem to continually forget how he abused _my_ feelings," she coldly reminded him.

"I don't care about your feelings. _You_ are not my friend. And in how many languages does he have to tell you that he's sorry before you get your head out of your arse, anyway? Seems to me that he's already tried quite a few." He gave her mussed hair and swollen lips a rather meaningful leer, the crudest he could manage.

Her flush returned, this time as much from anger as from embarrassment. "I'll make sure he knows who to thank for me not coming back," she said, before storming off.

And Draco was sure Blaise would really appreciate it.

* * *

"How could you?"

Draco winced. It really hadn't taken Davis long to tell Blaise about their conversation, had it? He'd barely sat down to get his admittedly late breakfast and there it was, a really angry Blaise.

Actually 'angry' was probably the wrong word. He looked… wounded.

"I just told her what's what."

"And how would you feel if I told a certain someone else _your_ little secret?"

Draco's hand froze halfway to the bread. "It's not the same. This was hardly a secret."

"Yeah? One could argue that neither is _yours._"

Draco winced again. "Look, I'm sorry. But if she wanted your, eh, relationship to go on, she could have just ignored me. I didn't force her to do anything."

"No, you manipulated her instead. Told her that it wasn't enough for me. She's not a monster; she doesn't want to hurt me, so she told me it was over. Thanks to you."

"Well, was it enough for you?"

"For _now_, yeah! I could have made it into more and now you had to go ruin it all for me!"

Draco wearily rubbed his eyes. He was tired. "Blaise… if she doesn't feel it—"

"What? You're the grand expert on what's possible and what's not?" Blaise interrupted. "You? Who can't even tell when the girls are actually interested in you? Yeah, I know about that although _you_ certainly didn't tell me."

He knew about Astoria? "Wasn't my secret to tell," Draco muttered.

"You are so busy protecting some trust fund you will be able to enjoy all by your lonesome in _seven years_ if you deny yourself happiness that you don't understand you could be missing out on something _good,_ which, if it worked out, others would kill to have, and you're telling _me_ what can and cannot be done?"

"All right!" Draco held up his hands in surrender, not really wanting this to go on. "I shouldn't have said anything to her. I was out of line. I'm sorry."

"Yes, well…" Blaise muttered looking down on his own empty plate, "sorry doesn't fix things, does it? You ruined it for me. Because I might have finally ended up happy with her and you just couldn't stand that, could you? You had to go and make sure that everyone would be as miserable as you."

"You know that's not—"

"Marriage."

Draco didn't quite follow so he just blinked and shut up.

"Marriage," Blaise repeated. "That's what _I_ was heading towards proposing. To prove to her that I meant it. It might not have worked, she might have turned me down, but that was my plan. I was just going to spend some time reminding her how good we were together first. Show her how much I loved her; that I'd do anything for her. Do my best to make her fall for me again. And now, because of you, it's _RUINED!!!_"

The shove of his plate and cutlery to the floor was so sudden and the shout so loud that several people in the Great Hall turned to look at Blaise. Draco was just happy that nobody was sitting close enough to have heard anything else.

"And for what?" Blaise hissed. "So you can feel better that she's not _using_ me anymore? Well, you know what? I hope you learn. I hope you do realize what you maybe could have had. And when that happens? I hope it is too late and that you will have to live your life _never_ having it."

Draco flinched at the anger. "Be reasonable. You couldn't have married her anyway. You're only eighteen and—"

"And you don't get to decide what I can and cannot do!" Blaise interrupted. "Just because _you_ don't want something doesn't mean the rest of us can't be allowed to. I wanted this. More than anything. You made sure it couldn't happen. You just don't know, do you, Draco? You can't imagine what it's like to try and _get_ what you want, to aim for happiness. I had gotten just _one_ step closer and you ruined it for me!"

There really wasn't much Draco could reply to that, so he didn't. Blaise spent a few more moments staring him down and then he abruptly left.

After Blaise was gone, Draco decided that nope, this really wasn't his year.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy!"

When Draco saw the Gryffindor Head of House aiming straight for him as he was leaving the Great Hall, he immediately went through any possible offenses he might have made in his head.

For the first time since he began attending Hogwarts, he actually couldn't come up with anything damning.

That probably wouldn't keep _her_ from coming up with something, though. It was also entirely possible that someone had made something up and was having a laugh somewhere.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall repeated, "have you seen Miss Granger?"

Draco stared blindly for a second. "Eh… what?"

"The Head Girl." She gave him a look that clearly questioned his intelligence.

"Um, no. No, I haven't. She must have eaten earlier or something."

"Right." The professor frowned a bit absent-mindedly. "Could you give her this note for me? Don't bother trying to read it, it's been magically sealed for her and you do _not_ want to find out what hex is on it."

"No!" Draco cringed when his exclamation had McGonagall's gaze back full force on him. "I mean… girls dormitories. I can't."

"Don't even try to pretend that you don't know that you're capable of entering the girls dormitories as Deputy Head Boy." Now her look didn't even _question_ his intelligence anymore.

Draco fought back another cringe. "But—"

"I think I know what's going on here," McGonagall mumbled, narrowing that uncomfortable gaze on him.

His cheeks went pink. _Great. Blushing like a girl now. Very suave, Draco._ "I'm sure that's not—"

"It's because of her heritage, isn't it?"

"Her—? Oh. Yes! Definitely, that's why!" He nodded just a tad too enthusiastically.

"50 points from Slytherin!"

He winced. Reassuring the professors that he was still very much a racist might not be a very good plan. It just seemed so much better than the alternative….

The elderly witch sighed and shook her head, no doubt losing faith in the pureblood youth of today. "I don't have time for this. Go up and give her this and then leave. It's hardly the worst chore you'll ever get." The note was shoved into his hand.

"But, Professor…" he whined.

"_What?_"

"… It's in _Gryffindor_." And it was Saturday morning. And it was in their girls dorms. He might as well draw a bullseye on himself and be done with it if he went up there.

"Why, so it is…" McGonagall turned her back on him. "Don't dally now."

Draco gaped at the professor's back. Had she just _smirked_? That was it! That old hag was definitely evil!

* * *

When the knock sounded on Hermione's door, her first reaction was to frown and put down the book she was leisurely sitting on her bed reading.

She didn't get a lot of knocks on her door. That was mostly because she didn't spend that much time in her room and Harry and Ron weren't actually _able_ to come knock on her door.

There was another knock.

She hadn't even dressed properly yet. She was wearing her very Muggle pyjama bottoms and t-shirt, because… well, it was comfortable.

This was an issue, because the knocker was probably Ginny and Ginny, being rather more girly in her appearance, didn't understand the value of comfort over presentability. One would think she'd be just a mite more tomboyish with six older brothers.

Too bad people didn't always conform to stereotypes.

The third knock was almost frantic.

She sighed and got up, moving a sleeping cat as she did so and crossing the room on her bare feet. This had better be more important than gossiping about Harry or, worse, gossiping about someone she didn't care about at all.

She finally opened the door as the fourth knock was sounding.

"About damn time," Malfoy almost hissed, glancing nervously down the hall and pushing uninvited past her before she could recover from her surprise.

What was he doing here?

"I don't recall asking you to come up here," she pointed out as she rather hesitantly closed the door behind him.

"I—" He stopped dead as he'd turned back towards her and frowned. "Muggle thing?" He indicated her clothes.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat and crossed her arms rather defensively over her chest. "Last I checked, wizards and witches wore clothes too."

Draco grinned. "Last I checked, we also used the laundry basket," he said, indicating her discarded robes. "You really are just a slob, aren't you?"

Hermione scowled and picked up the robes to put them away. "That's none of your business. _Why_ are you here?"

"Because McGonagall wants me to die." He handed her the note.

"Oh, ok." She took the note from him.

"You're not even going to ask _why_ she wants me to die?" he complained, sitting down in her only chair.

She shrugged. "Not really. It's a common enough reaction." She patted his shoulder.

He made a face. "Thanks."

She opened the note. "Oh, I'm sure she doesn't want you to _die_," she amended.

"Then why send me up _here_? With a bloody _note_? What's so important it couldn't wait, anyway? You do know that I had to go through your common room, right? And I will have to on my way out as well. Turning my _back_ on people!"

Ignoring Malfoy's ramblings and reading the note, it was Hermione's turn to make a face. "I have to redo every single schedule I took great pains to get done last night!"

Draco laughed at this, making her glare at him. "Oh, come on," he said, still sniggering. "It's funny if you're me. Why do you need to do that, anyway?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "They're moving something important into the school tonight. Some artifact or other. They can't risk bringing it to attention by bringing in Aurors, but I'm to assign more people to keeping the halls secure at night. This means that everyone gets the pleasure of wandering about at least one night a week now; doesn't that sound fun?" She turned her back on him, resigning herself to the fact that her Saturday would now be spent making this work.

He made a very unenthusiastic sound. "Why just us? Why not all older students? Or, you know, at least the goody ones? Make that Potter walk about and feel ridiculous because there's nothing _there_ besides shadows and cheeky paintings."

"Take it up with the ones in charge," she neutrally replied, realizing he was occupying her only working area.

"Yeah… Maybe I will."

She stepped up in front of him and poked him rather ineffectively with her bare foot. "You're in my chair."

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do about it?"

She pretended to think about it. "Hex you. And then have my friends hex you. And then hex you some more."

"Can't have that," he murmured and then abruptly stood, coming up much too close.

Hermione's eyes widened in startled surprise as she looked up at him. He was looking at her in _that_ way again. The way that usually brought no good with it. No, this was definitely not good. This was _never_ good.

* * *

**Apparently Hermione took offense at his amusement. "_And_ you're an egocentric, vain, inconsiderate, manipulative, rude…"**

**Draco sort of tuned out as the list seemed to go on and on and there didn't seem to be anything new on it. He already knew this and she knew he knew, so, really, she was just venting.**

**When she finally stopped to catch her breath, he decided to shrug and say, "You're not all that, either."**


	74. Chapter 74

**I'm running around, flailing, like a headless chicken. Kupo is now eating solids and doing...stuff. He's like a little person already. X_X**

**It was Maz' birthday (again) on the 10th and I should be posting a 17k words faux one-shot Rose/Scorpius in celebration of that on affnet and LJ soonish (tonight or tomorrow). So, um, there are some links in my profile or click "my homepage" to get to my LJ where I will post up links, if you're interested in reading that. I won't post it on ffnet. It's rated a hard R for being smutless smut. (don't ask)**

**And, again, I'm really sorry if you asked me a question or sent me a PM and I didn't get back to you. I read them and then mean to respond when I have time, but get totally distracted and whoops, six months passed. Time is warped in my universe.**

* * *

Hermione gulped, staring up at Draco. No, this really could never be good. Well, maybe a _little_ good, but it was always vastly outweighed by the bad. It certainly never _ended_ well. "No!" she exclaimed, taking a quick step backwards, before he could act on it. "No! No, no, no! And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!"

He shrugged, looking rather resigned, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You're saying you don't want me to kiss you. It's a pretty sensible stance; I'm not going to challenge it."

"Then why would you even…." She could hardly even say it.

"Who said I intended to?"

"Oh, you intended to! You _always_ intend to!"

He looked at her rather pensively for a second. "You know, I'm surprised that you aren't pretending nothing happened just now."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat again. "Well, that's not working, is it? That _nothing_ keeps happening because _you_… make it."

"And _you_ let it."

"Through no fault of my own!"

"Last time was _entirely_ your own fault!"

Her cheeks were practically burning now. "Yes, well, I was out of it. Otherwise it obviously wouldn't have happened." She crossed her arms again. She wasn't showing any extra skin in these clothes, but she couldn't help but feel at a disadvantage, exposed, by wearing her pyjama.

"You're such a hypocrite, Granger," he said with a sigh. "Just admit that you want it to happen too. It will make it easier to deal with. Acknowledgment doesn't have to mean acting on it, you know."

Hermione gaped a little at Draco's blunt statements before remembering herself and scowling instead.

She hated it when he made sense.

* * *

This discussion really shouldn't be turning him on, Draco mused. But it did. It reminded him of everything that had happened between them and everything that _could_ happen. And she looked adorable in what he could only assume were nightclothes. She was all rumpled and disheveled and considering the Hermione-shaped print on the bed right between the open book and the unconscious cat, he had probably interrupted a pretty cozy scene. He also liked how she seemed to become easily embarrassed today. Flaming cheeks suited her.

He had really badly wanted to kiss her. Never mind every reason he shouldn't. And, now, it was hard not to try and do it again, even though she was clearly saying no. She would probably slap him again if he tried.

It was sort of twisted that this wasn't less of a turn-on.

He really had it bad.

She opened her mouth, clearly to argue his statement, but then seemed to think better of it. Interestingly enough, she didn't even deny it. He'd sort of thought she would. "You're annoying," she said instead.

He found it hard not to laugh.

Apparently, Hermione took offense at his amusement. "_And_ you're an egocentric, vain, inconsiderate, manipulative, rude…"

Draco sort of tuned out as the list seemed to go on and on and there didn't seem to be anything new on it. He already knew this and she knew he knew, so, really, she was just venting.

When she finally stopped to catch her breath, he decided to shrug and say, "You're not all that, either."

That seemed to bring her up short. "What?"

Oh, so she wasn't used to being criticized? True, it might be an odd thing for him to say, considering that he'd been trying to kiss her only moments earlier, but what the hell. "You're annoying too. And more than occasionally a bit of a bitch. Your two favorite acts are innocent and high-and-mighty. You think that just because you're smart, you're better than everyone else. The mention of it is getting tired, but your hair is a disastrous mess. I've kissed prettier girls than you. And nicer ones. Sometimes, they were even both at once."

He knew he'd listed potion ingredients before with greater passion than this, but it wasn't really that he wanted to cuss her out. He just wanted to remind her that he wasn't the only imperfect person in this room. Imperfections didn't matter. They didn't change anything.

He half expected her to yell at him again, but she didn't. She just stood staring at him, no doubt trying to work out why he'd been trying to kiss her when he felt this way. Well, she had a much longer list of grievances against _him_ and she usually responded, didn't she? And she'd come on to him before as well. So what was so strange about it?

Finally she frowned and blinked in what still looked like confusion. "I see," she muttered, turning away from him. "Look, I need to work on these schedules, so if you could just leave…."

Her back was very straight. Too straight.

She didn't care what he thought, did she? That would be a first. "You're done yelling at me, then?" he asked.

"Yeah. All done."

She was too compliant by half. But then again, if he had somehow managed to do the unprecedented and hurt her feelings it was probably a good thing. Then they weren't likely to end up in compromising positions that would just complicate matters.

It was easier when there was no way it could happen.

She was still rigidly keeping her back to him, waiting for him to leave.

_Damn it_.

He couldn't make his feet move towards the door, but found himself walking up behind her instead. He put his hand on her arm and she yanked it away. Her cheeks were a different kind of red. This kind of red did odd squeezing things to his chest instead of the flutter he'd felt before.

"Hey…" he quietly said.

"I told you to leave," she said more sharply.

"Since when do you care what I say or think?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

"And since when do you make it a habit to constantly come on to someone you think of as a bint?" Her voice broke.

She really was hurt?

Since when did she listen to him _at all_? She knew he was a git.

He couldn't believe how much he hated this.

"I didn't say you were a bint…" he lamely replied. He _had_ called her a bitch after all. And talked about prettier girls. Why that had seemed a good idea at the time, he failed to recall.

She bitterly laughed. "No, just worse than the usual. Slumming it with a minger, then? Trying to get in the knickers of the clever Muggleborn…. As long as the lights are out, who cares, right?"

But she _knew_ how much he wanted her, how he'd fought to hold back. Why wasn't she being rational anymore? "You know that's not it. And your list was longer!"

"I didn't call you ugly!"

Why was that such a big of a deal? "But you have to admit you listed me as being pretty repulsive."

"But I haven't been going around trying to—to—"

"Except last time you came to my room you did."

"Theo had just turned me down; I thought you would be easy! Now I see why you weren't, of course, but at the time I had good reason to think you'd do it."

Draco tried to make sounds into words, but he didn't manage to get much. He'd known she'd come to his room because she was unhappy about Theo, but…. "You only tried to have sex with me because Theo turned you down for it first?" he quietly asked, not entirely certain why this hurt so much. He'd known she didn't _really_ want him... hadn't he?

It was just… the thought of her trying to seduce Theo made him sick. The thought of her going straight to _his_ room after made him even sicker.

"Yeah, I wasn't good enough for him either," she muttered, suddenly going over to the door and yanking it open, effectively throwing him out.

This time, he left.

* * *

Hermione slammed the door after Malfoy. How dare he! To come in here and act all attracted to her only to then tell her that she was ugly and…. She looked down herself, taking her less than flattering attire in. And what? Just not lie about it? Not inflate her ego by claiming that she'd look pretty no matter what she wore or what she did to her hair?

In an irrational fit of temper, she kicked her chair, feeling only a little satisfaction as it toppled over.

She knew, damn it. She had both eyes and a brain in her head. He didn't have to _tell_ her he'd kissed prettier girls. She knew. She'd bloody _seen_ it for that matter.

But wasn't it common courtesy not to point such things out?

She knew that prettiness wasn't her main priority. After all, she was the one to _set_ the priorities. But that didn't mean she didn't want to feel pretty every once in a while. Especially with the blokes that generally tried to kiss her.

Was that too much to ask?

And, quite honestly, the way Malfoy had seemed attracted to her, she'd thought… she wasn't sure what she'd thought. Or, rather, she wasn't going to embarrass herself by thinking it again. Obviously she'd been wrong.

She shouldn't care, but sometimes she found that it just wasn't enough to be clever. She was not just a walking brain but a _girl_ and sometimes she too had silly fantasies about being the belle of the ball.

Krum had made her feel that way, years ago. That was why she had gone too far with him. Not because she had been naïve enough to think it was true love or anything beyond what it was, but because nobody else had ever done that for her. Nobody else had ever seen her feminine side. Nobody else had ever made her feel beautiful.

The strange part was how much Draco's words had _hurt_. She was used to his abuse. Since this was coming from him, she should be able to just laugh it off.

But she'd been feeling sort of vulnerable and then he'd struck like the viper he was.

A shallow viper at that.

Inner beauty really didn't count with boys their age, did it? But then again, he'd also called her a _bitch_ and _high and mighty_ and…. Her eyes filled with tears. It seemed like there was no beauty anywhere in her as far as he was concerned.

It was just the shock, she told herself. She wasn't really hurt. She didn't care. She had just been blind-sided. He hadn't seemed prone to making these kinds of insults lately.

In fact, she'd thought he liked her. That he'd even liked her a little too well.

Guess not.

* * *

Another book slammed down hard on top of the one Draco was reading and he sighed. Someone was cross with him for a change. And they had chosen to single him out at the library. At least Madam Pince would come to his aid if it got too loud or any books were damaged.

"Well, hello there, Potter," he said upon establishing the identity of the blighter. "How may I help you?" He carefully extricated his homework.

"You wouldn't by any chance be into pain?" Potter coldly asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "That's sort of a personal question, isn't it? Sorry, I don't swing _your_ way."

Harry coldly smiled. "Don't believe for one second that I wouldn't be getting off on tying you up and hurting you."

Draco winced. Not a very pleasant imagery, that. The tying and the hurting notwithstanding. "Did I do something, or is this just you coming out?"

Harry leaned in over the table. "You're damn right you did something. You upset Hermione. You know her, right? Really smart, very strong convictions? She told me I couldn't get even for the whole enslaving deal, but this… this is something different."

The bottom fell out of Draco's stomach. He had upset her badly enough that her friends knew?

But then again, he hadn't actually escaped unscathed. He was still smarting from her little revelation that on top of having just wanted to use him to forget her problems with Theo—which was fine, really, at least the attraction was still true in that scenario—she had wanted to use him as a substitute _for_ Theo when the other boy had turned her down only minutes before.

"So what did you do to her in her room?" Potter was asking. "If it was bad, so help me…."

Draco gave a darkly amused smile. What did he _think_ he'd done? There were limits to what he could ever do to her without ending up having a very important part of himself hexed off. "Relax. I just insulted her. She'll get over it."

"What did you say to her?" Potter demanded.

Draco considered lying. Or baiting him. But then again, considering the rather homoerotic fantasies that Potter seemed to be having, he was probably better off just answering the question. "I don't recall my exact words, but something to the effect of her not being pretty," he calmly replied.

"What?"

"Oh, and I also called her a bitch."

"And why would she care what you think? And… she's upset you don't think she's _pretty_?" Harry frowned, looking unconvinced that Draco was telling the truth.

Draco rolled his eyes and got up, collecting his books. "As for the first part: Surprised me too. For the second part: She's a _girl_. About time you figured that out if you haven't already. No girl likes to think she's not attractive. Even if it's a plonker telling her so." He was mumbling the last bit as he was leaving, feeling rather irritated. It was a damn nuisance that he always had to study in his room if he didn't want to be disturbed.

And he most certainly did not have the urge to go seek Granger out and assure her of her attractiveness.

She was being stupid for believing his rubbish anyway. Had she not been _there_ the times he'd kissed her?

This annoyance he felt was not with himself. It was with everyone else. Especially her.

She shouldn't let him upset her. It made no sense to let him upset her.

Damn it.

* * *

"I cannot believe this!" Tracey Davis stared at Draco with wide eyes.

"Believe it."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You know very well why I'm doing it. Blaise is mad at me."

She smirked at that, seeming rather happy with that fact. Bitch. Wasn't there a time where she had blended in with the wallpaper? He sorely missed those times.

"Oh, yeah," she said, clearly relishing his misfortune.

_Bitch_.

"So, are you going to do it or not?" he asked, his patience wearing thin.

She crossed her arms. "I'm thinking not. I'm not a whore."

Draco wearily rubbed his temple. "I never said you had to _sleep_ with him."

"You said you'd pay me to at least give Blaise a small chance? I don't know if you noticed, but with him that usually involves sex. The boy has an appetite."

"Then tell him that you don't want to muddle it up with sex!" Draco exclaimed. "How hard can it be?"

She snorted and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You don't even have the money. Blaise told me that you're broke."

"Oh, he told you that, did he?" Draco scowled. "I'm not _that_ broke. I have options."

"Like what?"

"Like none of your business. It's not like Blaise doesn't have to be creative as well in putting money aside so his mother won't realize what he's doing before he's gone."

"Before he—huh?"

"You know, when he—" Draco stopped himself. "Shit, you don't know, do you?"

"No. Tell me."

"Not my story to tell."

"_Tell me!_"

He seized the opportunity. "Will you do this then?"

She bared her teeth at him. "Fine."

The good thing about Slytherins was that you could always bring them around if you had the right incentive. In Draco's opinion it was really much easier than dealing with Gryffindors.

* * *

**Hermione rolled her eyes. "Adding to the list now? That's lovely, Malfoy. Really. Done yet?" She tried to go around him, but he didn't budge and she was still a bit hesitant in getting too close to him.**

**"Potter sought me out and chatted me up," he conversationally said. "You know, I think that boy's dating the wrong Weasley. But other than that, he said you were upset by what I said to you."**

**Hermione felt her face burn with embarrassment. She was going to hex Harry for this. "I was _angry_ about what you said."**

**"No, I think you were upset."**

**She came up with a few new choice names for him in her head. "I was _annoyed_."**


	75. Chapter 75

**Time flies when you're having... writer's block and babies. And buying new gadgets so you can more easily write everywhere. MSI Wind U100 = yummy!  
**

**I appreciate all of your praise, thoughts and con-crit and I want to thank you for it! But to those of you concerned about the length: You can't make me end it or draw it out, so unless you just want to upset me? Let's just agree to disagree. Also, remember, it seems longer because of the wait between updates. Maybe take a break from the story and try again once it has a bigger "buffer" for you to consume. Or, if it's simply not your thing anymore, I won't get mad at you for not reading, but you don't really have to tell me if you stop. I don't expect anyone to love everything I write. **

**I don't have an estimate of chapters (due to them being divided on word count rather than content), but it's progressing. Currently writing a really difficult scene. Difficulty = importance in this fic, and I've been wrestling this scene for, oh, more than a month now...  
**

**I now have Twitter, because I am sheep. If you follow AkashaTheKitty, you can see how scatterbrained I am... in real time! XD**

* * *

Hermione paced back and forth outside of the deceptive stone wall that signaled the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Where _was_ he? Asking a younger Slytherin to fetch him had probably been a mistake, but damn it, she was _not_ going back in there again. Not on her life!

When Draco emerged, raising an eyebrow at her, she mentally swore up a storm. _Damn it!_

"Theo wasn't in?" she made a point of asking.

"Apparently not," he replied. "Funny how you always seem to go for him first, though."

"Well, he _is_ the Head Boy," she retorted. "You'll never be more than second."

He glared at her. "Was there anything in particular you wanted?" he asked. "Or were you just looking for someone to snog you? I'm afraid I'm a little busy for that today."

"No doubt," she muttered, annoyed at the odd twinge she felt at that particular retort. "Then let's be quick about it." She reached into her bag and counted out six scrolls and thrust them at him. "New schedules for Slytherin, effective immediately. I've already covered Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and I'll do Ravenclaw on my way up, but just figured you could do _something_ to help me out and hunt down your own prefects."

She turned her back on him and walked away.

Deep in thought, mentally scolding herself for letting such a git get to her, she made her way back along the twisted underground corridors to where the classrooms began again. She hadn't heard anyone coming up behind her so she was more than a little surprised—to be followed by angry and, if she had to be completely honest, a little scared—when she was suddenly shoved into a classroom and heard the door slam shut behind her.

She stumbled and then gained her footing and swirled around to give them a piece of her mind and possibly a piece of her wand, when she saw who it was, leaning against the door.

"Malfoy? What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"You really ought to be more careful down here."

"The only one assaulting me down here is _you_!"

"And you make it damn easy to boot."

"Would you care to explain to me just _why_ you're looking for me to hex you into oblivion?"

His lip twisted sardonically. "You honestly feel threatened by me?"

"Then what is this about?"

"About you being bloody stupid!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Adding to the list now? That's lovely, Malfoy. Really. Done yet?" She tried to go around him, but he didn't budge and she was still a bit hesitant in getting too close to him.

"Potter sought me out and chatted me up," he conversationally said. "You know, I think that boy's dating the wrong Weasley. But other than that, he said you were upset by what I said to you."

Hermione felt her face burn with embarrassment. She was going to hex _Harry_ for this. "I was _angry_ about what you said."

"No, I think you were upset."

She came up with a few new choice names for him in her head. "I was _annoyed_."

"Deny it all you want," he said, sounding rather annoyed himself. "But I know for a fact that you let me get to you. How stupid is that?"

What was this? Couldn't he just leave well enough alone? "Why are you _yelling_ at me about it?"

"Because you should know better, Granger!"

She made a frustrated sound. "_What_ exactly is it I should know?" she asked. "Because to tell you the truth, I'm lost! If you want me to know something, then _say_ it!"

He growled back at her, but then visibly collected himself. "You've had enough boys be attracted to you to _know_ that what I said to you about looks was nothing but dragon dung."

"So maybe I was feeling a little insecure." She crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "I'm over it! Harry had no right to stir things up. Are we done yet?"

"No, I actually had something else I wanted to say to you."

Oh, this was going to be a load of fun, she could tell. "Which is…?"

"You know I can't…" He stopped, seemingly trying to find the right words.

She took a little comfort in his discomfort as her nausea threatened to overtake her. "Can't… what? I never knew you were such a wuss, Malfoy. I mean, obviously I _knew_, but—"

"Dating you is not an option. Ever," he interrupted.

Hermione felt a bit like he'd Stupefied her. Talk about being blunt. "I don't recall asking that of you," she finally managed. "In fact, I don't recall ever doing or saying anything to make you believe I wanted it." Except that one time she had pretty much asked him to sleep with her. The nausea grew stronger.

He shrugged. "Theo has been giving me flak for misleading you."

_Theo_? How was this any of _Theo_'s business? "Right. Glad that's all cleared up, then."

She was confused that Draco had decided to actually follow her and corner her to tell her that he'd never date her. She didn't _want_ to date him and, besides, she already knew that. She'd always known. He'd been brought up to find her inferior and it was instilled in him that he must marry a pureblood witch to carry on the purity of his line.

A few months of lusting after a Muggleborn witch wouldn't change that.

She really did know that.

She'd honestly always known.

There was no need to tell her.

* * *

Draco watched Hermione scowl at him. She only seemed surprised that he'd told her, not that he felt this way. It grated. He wanted so much to shake her and ask her what the hell she thought of him to not even be surprised, but doing so would be rather odd, considering that he'd be contradicting himself. Again. Besides, she had already told him what she thought of him, hadn't she?

But she could at least look a little more like she cared. Like she'd want it to be different. Like she wanted to be with him.

Didn't she understand that it was hard for him to stay away? That he wanted her so much he could hardly see straight? Cornering her at all had been a bad idea, but he didn't like the idea of her being upset that he'd said some thoughtless things. He was a stupid sod and she should remember that.

Considering how she was looking at him, she remembered that very well.

Too well.

Here he went, contradicting himself again.

"What I said to you in your room—" he began.

"I said I was over it!" She didn't seem to have a lot of patience with him today. Who could blame her? He really was saying all the wrong things lately.

"Yeah, but, the difference between what you said and what I said—"

"Was that what you said was incredibly shallow?" she mock-guessed.

"Hey, calling me a prat isn't exactly deep, you know!" he objected with a scowl of his own. "But the _difference_ was that your words contained _everything_ you thought of me. It is possible to see someone's flaws and still like them. Nobody is perfect."

She snorted and looked down her nose at him. "You don't _like_ me. You _want_ me."

"One doesn't exclude the other." He only wished it did.

"In your case it does. If you had really liked me, you would have backed off long ago."

He closed his eyes. "I'm _trying_ to back off."

"Yeah?" she asked, walking very close to him and lowering her voice. "And if I come to your room tonight? Will you back off then?"

His eyes flew open and he stared at her, unable to reply. With a small smirk, she reached behind him, opened the door, and then she was gone.

He knew she wasn't going to come to his room; really, he did! There was no way in hell she would ever do that again.

He still had problems falling asleep that night, though.

The witch had no mercy.

* * *

"So!" Blaise plonked down in the chair facing Draco's. "Funny thing has happened. Tracey decided to give me a new chance and everything. She's very guarded about it, of course, but she's amenable."

"That's good," Draco cautiously replied.

"Yep," Blaise said, leisurely stretching. "And in time for Valentine's and everything."

"I'm glad."

"See, the thing is… she wouldn't." Blaise regarded Draco shrewdly.

"Hm?" Draco found it best to play innocent. Or safest, rather. He really liked his limbs.

"So, what did you do? Threaten her or bribe her?" Blaise calmly asked.

Crap. Draco was in trouble. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you threatening her." Blaise was wearing a slight frown.

"I didn't threaten her." That much was true.

"Good! I really didn't like that thought, wanting her to eventually carry my babies and all. You understand."

"Oh, and you like the idea of me bribing her?"

"Yeah, it's brilliant!" Blaise was suddenly very animated.

Draco stared, feeling like he missed something. "Say what?"

"It gives her an incentive to be around me that she didn't have before. And that whole new no-sex rule is awesome as well, because she might realize she likes me outside of bed. We'll have sex again once that happens."

"Uh… ok." Draco felt like he'd just entered an alternate reality.

"It actually might work out _better_ than before," Blaise continued, "with her not fighting it every step of the way. I'm finally getting a fair fighting chance!"

"Wait… so… you're actually happy that I, uh, _supposedly_ bribed her?"

Blaise snorted and dismissively waved a hand. "You know you did. Was it money? Yeah, I bet it was. Tracey doesn't have a lot of it although she'd like to. I can pay you back. I still have access to Mum's funds."

"Don't you even _care_ about _why_ she's with you?" Draco incredulously asked.

Blaise stared at Draco as if he'd just grown another head. "You've been spending too much time with Gryffindors and the like, mate. I'm getting what I want. Who cares about why? Nobody forced her to take your money, right? She's getting what she wants; I'm getting what I want; everyone is happy."

"But—"

"I'm still getting my chance. It's all I need."

Draco hesitated. "So… we're good?"

"We're good."

Well. That had been easier than Draco had thought it would be.

"But as for how you're handling the situation with Granger..." Blaise continued.

And suddenly Draco remembered why Blaise being mad at him could be a _good_ thing and he was fondly remembering the days when Blaise wouldn't talk to him at all.

* * *

"Why won't anybody tell me who it _is_?" Harry whined rather ineffectually at Hermione.

"It's none of your business, Harry," Hermione prudently pointed out. She should have known that doing her homework in the common room would be less than productive. "Who Ron likes is Ron's business."

"But I'm his best friend! Don't I deserve to know?" Harry continued.

"No."

"That's not very generous of you."

Hermione wearily rubbed her temples. "And you've been bothering us for how long now? Get over it already."

"I just want to know who it is I'm supposed to be nice to." Now he was trying to reason? Too bad that his logic was lacking.

"Everyone," she replied. "Be nice to everyone."

Harry snorted. "They don't make it easy, you know."

"I know. But aren't you supposed to be better than them?"

"Is she in our year? At least tell me if she's in our year."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Right. Because potentially narrowing it down to four girls, one of which was Millicent Bulstrode, would not be giving it all away. "No."

"No, you won't tell me? Or no, she isn't?" Harry kept on fishing for clues.

She glared at him. "No, keep your nose out of everyone's business!"

"But—"

"What are you going to do if we tell you? Go _talk_ to her? Reveal Ron's personal feelings without his consent, completely embarrassing him in the process?"

Harry squirmed a little under her glare. "Oops."

"How could you?"

"I just wanted to know what he—"

Hermione pointedly stood and began gathering her things. "Well, guess what? You don't get to _know_ everything! Not about Ron and not about me. Go deal with your _own_ life instead."

"Hey, I _talked_ to Ginny, apologized even, but now she says she's not sure she wants me back."

There was a short awkward silence at this revelation. Hermione hadn't really known that Harry was the one on the spot now and she was sorry for her friend, but he had sort of brought it on himself with his hesitation. Any self-respecting woman would have doubts after the kind of treatment Harry had subjected Ginny to lately.

"Well, then…" she finally said. "Figure _that_ out instead of sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong!"

"But I already _tried_!"

She inwardly groaned. "That doesn't mean you don't have to try harder. Make up your mind whether you want her or not and then act properly on it!"

Harry sighed and apparently decided to abandon the subject of his girlfriend. "My own relationship notwithstanding, I just care about both of you. I don't like how I feel like I don't know what's going on with either of you these days."

Hermione softened a little. "Nothing is going on, really. I'm sure Ron will tell you if anything important happens."

"And you?"

"I told you about Theo, didn't I?"

Harry curtly nodded in acknowledgment. "What about this thing with Malfoy?"

Hermione spent a few seconds gaping like a fish. "There is no _thing_!"

"Why did you get so upset if he just insulted you a little?" he asked.

She floundered a little before exclaiming, "Because it's that time of the month!"

That shut him up like nothing else would and Hermione was glad she had such a good excuse. Even if it was a lie. But she had to say _something_, didn't she?

Who needed sanity when they had justifications like that?

* * *

**"You're actually beginning to believe you have a shot, aren't you?" Theo's lips twisted in that sardonic way of his.**

**Draco sighed. Back to that. "You know it doesn't matter."**

**"If you're so concerned about the money you could lose by marrying someone ineligible, why not just make the other sacrifice?" Theo very calmly asked.**

**Draco did a double-take. "You… you know about that?"**


	76. Chapter 76

**I'm not very SRS BSNS. Actually, a lot of the time I'm very tongue-in-cheek. Just thought I'd randomly put that out there.**

**A little more than 200,000 words in. Wow. Ending it before 250,000 words might be a bit too ambitious (although you never know), but I really, _really_ doubt it'll be 300,000 words considering what's left. And no sequels or prequels or any other crud after that. That'll be it. I hope that helps anyone who's been asking for an estimate, at least a little bit.  
**

* * *

Blaise was whistling. It was aggravating. Draco hadn't regained his friend as much as regained his eternal nuisance. He wasn't the only nuisance, though. Their common room was being transferred into some hideous abomination that should make any self-respecting Slytherin wince.

It seemed like they were out of self-respecting Slytherins.

"Would you please _stop_?" Draco finally snapped.

Blaise grinned. "I can't help it! It's Valentine's Day!"

As if he really needed a reminder with those awful pink streamers floating about. Who'd come up with this, anyway? "You never cared much for it before!" he objected. "Nobody really did. Why is it suddenly such a big deal?" He eyed a particularly horrible streamer with disgust.

"Because Tracey agreed to spend it with me!" Blaise beamed.

Draco scowled. It was nauseating. He knew he should probably be happy for his friend, but he couldn't summon the goodwill.

"Say," Blaise continued, still annoying as ever, "wouldn't it be nice if _you_ had a date too? Oh, wait, you do! With galleons! Well, take care, I hear they're a bit inconsistent in their affections, easily transferring them from one to another and all."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I _do_ have a date," he said, getting up. "With the library. You know, studying, while ponces like you make fools of themselves."

"Yes, because studying keeps you warm at night."

"It does when you need work to keep a roof over your head," Draco muttered.

"Wait, what was that?" Blaise's interest was obviously piqued.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's still a few years before I _get_ my inheritance, remember? Unless I marry right away and I sort of don't plan to."

"Damn, I thought for a second that you were beginning to make sense."

Sense, indeed! "Yes, I could see that. Sorry to disappoint."

Besides, Blaise left out the part where Granger would never have gone for it anyway. So, really, _what_ would the point be of making huge, life-altering decisions?

* * *

Hermione made a narrow escape from her common room. She wasn't really that fond of Valentine's Day celebrations. It was stupid and overblown and just another excuse for the shops to sell things with tacky hearts on them.

Besides, she was deeply traumatized from making a fool of herself over Gilderoy Lockhart five years ago.

_Deeply_ traumatized.

But mostly she wasn't in the mood to sit around watching everyone being so… _coupled._

Studying seemed safer.

That was, studying seemed safer until she got to the library and noticed who was already there.

Well, it was a big library. Maybe she could find a table somewhere in the back and nobody would have to be the wiser. At least she might be allowed to ignore him in peace. After all, they weren't even the only ones here. A handful of people had decided to study to pass the day.

They were just the only ones that wouldn't have to leave by eight when the library closed. The perks of being 'authority figures' and all.

Naturally, this meant that she had to leave by eight as well. She couldn't imagine being alone with Draco in this big, dark, empty library.

Actually, she could, and that was why she couldn't stay.

Damn, she'd planned on staying until bedtime to avoid the celebrations in her common room.

She found a table at the back, sat down, and began preparing, but she hadn't even figured out whether she wanted to study for Arithmancy or Potions first before she felt a presence and heard a bag being deposited on the floor with a loud thunk.

"I can't concentrate," Malfoy said, sitting down uninvited. "It's your fault."

"I can't bloody well hide out in my room all the time," she retorted. "You'll just have to deal with it."

"True," he said, without even blinking. "But I thought guilting you into helping me might be the best approach."

Hermione frowned at him. "What?"

He sighed. "I need help. You're smart. Please help me."

"Why would I help you?" she demanded.

She honestly didn't know why she should. First he was extremely cruel to her, then he was acting as if he wanted her, and most recently he had humiliated her again by seeking her out just to tell her that he didn't want to date her. Why would he even do a thing like that? It was such a demeaning thing to say, especially considering that she'd _never_ indicated wanting any such thing. Just because she'd thrown herself at him didn't mean she _liked_ him—it just meant she had no self-respect, obviously.

"You're mad at me," he quietly observed.

"No, I just don't like you very much. There's a difference." Actually she _was_ mad, but… admitting that would just lead to one of those countless discussions she _didn't_ want to have more of.

He looked down at his hands. "But you like me even less now than before," he muttered. "It bothers me."

"Then you should stop being so unlikeable."

"I… can't." He paused. "And I suppose it's better that you don't like me. Sorry. My mistake." He began to rise.

"Why do you keep contradicting yourself?" Hermione asked.

Draco sat down again. "You don't want to know, I don't think."

"Oh, but I do."

He twitched. "Fine, then I just don't want to say."

"You can't keep doing this."

"I just asked you for homework help."

"You want me to like you, but you don't want me to like you. You want to have sex with me, but you don't want to have sex with me. Just stop it already. Leave me alone!"

Now she was the one to get up and stuff her books into her bag. She could study in her room if she had to. She certainly didn't need to be _here_.

"I didn't think there was any doubt about the sex," he murmured.

She snorted. "Oh, please."

"I only stopped because—"

She held up her hand, cutting him off. "I heard, don't bother."

"I wasn't lying," he gritted out. "But I _can't_ date you, so pursuing you for sex would just be…."

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Slytherin of you?"

He stood up too. "Is that what you want me to do, then?"

"No. Leave me alone." She began walking away from him.

Suddenly, but not terribly surprisingly, he grabbed her arm.

"Let go!" she warned, trying to get free and possibly beat the living daylights out of him. This was just some game to him, wasn't it? See how far he could push her and then backtrack at the slightest indication that she might believe anything he said.

Her bag slipped to the floor and he grabbed her other arm, giving her a strong sense of déjà vu. Apparently manhandling her in the library was his newest hobby.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Tell me what you want!"

"I believe I already did."

He pressed his lips together in an annoyed frown. "Yes, I believe you did."

Then his lips came crashing down on hers. Hard. The shock more than anything made her try to push him away, but his hands just tightened, and when he opened his mouth on hers and she didn't open hers, he _bit_ her! Actually, it was just a hard nip, but still! It made her gasp and then his tongue was in her mouth and the kiss turned surprisingly gentle. His hands even loosened their hold a bit.

Now was her cue to break free. Or bite his tongue off. Or both.

Just one moment longer and then she'd decide which course of action was best.

His lips were gently brushing the spot he'd nipped, soothing it, before fully kissing her again. Something about it all made her light-headed, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

He was a git, that was for sure, and she was tired of his games. She just… liked the kiss. Not so much the kiss itself—although it had vastly improved in the last minute or two—but _being_ kissed. Even if it was by some uncaring git who only did it to mess with her head.

He one upped her again, though, by being the one to stop.

Damn it.

She glared at him, well aware that her cheeks were flushed and her breathing shallow. At some point, her hands had grabbed hold of his arms as well—entirely without her asking them to—and now she let go as if burned.

_Damn it_.

So what? She liked how it felt when he kissed her. Sure. That was no reason to feel like going to her room and dying.

But dying really did seem appealing right now.

"You want me," he quietly said. "At least between your legs you do. I'm not the only one contradicting myself."

The crude words made Hermione glare furiously, but it hardly mattered, because he had already left.

* * *

Draco was wrinkling his nose at the display currently before him, yet still not looking away. They were blocking his way back into the common room, that was all. He certainly wasn't looking at them because he had some kind of sick fascination with what was going on.

He had kissed Granger in the library. He wasn't sure why, but he had. Violently.

Standing here, watching this couple, he realized why that had completely ruined his mood. He hadn't wanted to kiss her violently. He'd wanted to kiss her gently. Like Blaise was currently kissing Tracey, the little tramp, right in the middle of the hallway. Careful, almost innocent kissing.

He was such an idiot for wanting that. Their entire non-existent relationship was about abuse, assaulting, and animalistic tendencies. Not… tenderness. Not love.

She had been the one wanting that violent kiss, though. She might not want to admit it, but she had wanted it. She had argued and fought in a way that clearly told him so. He had just wanted to give her what she wanted. He always wanted to give her what she wanted. He was stupid that way. Too bad that she mostly wanted him to get lost.

The reason he'd gone to her and asked for help in the first place wasn't because he'd wanted anything to happen. He did have some homework he could use her help on and he just sort of liked it whenever they managed to get along. He liked talking to her and being around her when they weren't fighting. For one insane second he'd thought maybe they could work on a truce and become friends. Good friends. The kind that cared. True, he was feeling just a tad more than friendliness towards her, but he could work on that.

Instead she hated his guts but secretly wanted him to force kisses on her. He supposed it was because she didn't have to acknowledge that she liked it as long as she was being forced.

It wasn't that he hadn't liked kissing her, per se. He just hadn't liked the way of it. It was painful enough to kiss her in the first place, knowing that it meant nothing and would go no further, without making it into a mockery of how he felt.

And now Blaise and Tracey were mocking him too by sweetly kissing where he'd have to break them up to get past them.

"Is it really that interesting?" a cool voice asked. Theo. Draco's night certainly was complete now.

"It's just odd," Draco muttered. "Normally she can't seem to stop being a bitch to him."

"She can't trust anything that comes out of his mouth," Theo mused. "He undoubtedly flattered her shamelessly in private in order to get into her knickers, and then he dehumanized her rather publicly. Just because he's obviously sorry doesn't mean that he thinks he was _wrong_. It just means he's sorry she heard and was ended their affair over it. I'd think less of her if she wasn't 'a bitch'."

Draco glanced at Theo, who looked impassive as ever and then back at the couple. "He does think he was wrong, you know that."

Theo shrugged. "I don't actually care. This bores me."

"Then why do you even bother to analyze them?"

"Because you overly identify with him and that bit is amusing."

"I do not—"

"You're actually beginning to believe you have a shot, aren't you?" Theo's lips twisted in that sardonic way of his.

Draco sighed. Back to that. "You know it doesn't matter."

"If you're so concerned about the money you could lose by marrying someone ineligible, why not just make the other sacrifice?" Theo very calmly asked.

Draco did a double-take. "You… you know about that?"

"Told you I read about it, didn't I? Not all witches want children, you know."

Draco glanced uncertainly at Theo. He had no idea where it might actually _say_ that his family had made it a habit to curse the heir. It was some archaic way of ensuring that he wouldn't accidentally have any sons out of wedlock that might make claims or be able to have a full relationship with children with a non-pureblood with no consequences. "I know, that not everyone _wants_ children, but most witches would resent that I chose money over marrying and procreating with them, whether they actually wanted it or not."

"Well, many witches also like money."

"You know _she_'s not like that so this _still_ can't go anywhere. Why are you trying to make it happen?"

Theo smiled rather coldly. "You misunderstand me. I would like to see you _try_. She would reject you. She doesn't want anything you have to offer. I think she would much rather date a Jarvey than even contemplate a future with you, whether you choose the money or the offspring. Watching you agonize about whether to make sacrifices is amusing me in its sheer futility."

Draco actually wasn't that surprised. Theo had reason to be feeling vindictive. "You're wrong, you know," he said. "She does want _something_ I have to offer."

"Ah, yes, I forgot. She's attracted to you physically, that's true. She's attracted to me too. I could have had her. Maybe I should have just taken what she offered, since she offers it so freely anyway."

Draco fought hard not to tense up. It would be stupid to be so easily baited. "This is not going to work, Theo," he said.

"Maybe she'll offer it to me again. After all, I was the one to break it off, not her. I could act contrite."

"I know that you're still in love with her," Draco quietly said, refusing to acknowledge the anger he felt at Theo's words. He wasn't sure why the head boy was trying to make him lose it, but he guessed it was part of getting even. "So why do you even pretend that you're not?"

Theo's impassive expression didn't change. "I never said anything about that. I said I could act contrite to get her into bed. It has nothing to do with my feelings for her."

"Still, that's what stopped you in the first place, wasn't it? That you knew she didn't feel the same."

"No. What stopped me was that she was wearing that _ring_. Do you honestly think that I wouldn't have taken whatever I could get if she hadn't been playing your game? Do you honestly think that _you_ ever figured even once in my thoughts when dealing with _my_ relationship? I knew her feelings didn't run that deep from the beginning. Unlike you, however, I never deluded myself but just worked with what I had. I didn't do very well, I admit; she didn't always react how I thought she would."

"You're not that cold, Theo."

"Again, I never said I was cold. You assume too much, Draco. They're gone now."

Draco blinked, feeling a bit confused at the last bit until he realized that he had meant Blaise and Tracey, and by then Theo was gone too.

* * *

**Jarvey: _The Jarvey is found in Britain, Ireland and North America. It resembles an overgrown ferret in most respects, except for the fact that it can talk. True conversation, however, is beyond the wit of the Jarvey, which tends to confine itself to short (and often rude) phrases in an almost constant stream. Jarveys live mostly below ground, where they pursue gnomes, though they will also eat moles, rats and voles._ -- From "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them"**

**---  
**

**"What do you want?" he asked. Maybe he could at least hear her cover story.**

**"I want to talk."**

**"You couldn't find anybody else to talk to?"**

**She looked him straight in the eye. "I wanted to talk to _you_. About... about sex."**


	77. Chapter 77

**The next three chapters are connected, so I'll try to release them in quicker succession for continuity for you WIP followers.**

**About the previews: I can give previews because I'm always a few chapters ahead. It's not to "make you wait" for those chapters, but rather so it's easier for me to make edits without having to edit published stuff. I hate that practice. Also, it ensures that you never have to wait months for updates, even though I may not be able to write for months. ;) So, there you have it. Insider info of the week (although I think I said it before).**

* * *

Hermione sat in her room doodling. Normally, she would be doodling in the library, but lately she found herself tensing up as soon as she set foot in the room. She also found herself anticipating the appearance of one Draco Malfoy to bother her again. Because bother her was what he _did_.

However, it had now been almost one full week since last time and he was _not_ bothering her. Which bothered her.

He was also right about something.

That bothered her more.

She _did_ sort of want to sleep with him. It was just that the one time she had initiated it, he had refused to go through with it. So, was the fact that he'd called her on it a roundabout invitation, or was he just playing with her again? Attempting something again just to be rejected would be downright mortifying. But wouldn't he _want_ to have sex, just because?

She stopped doodling as a realization hit her.

She was approaching this as if getting into bed with him was the problem when _really_ the problem was… it was….

Huh.

She had lost sight of the problem. All she could think of was what it would feel like to sneak down to the dungeons and have him make good on his threat to make her scream "yes".

Clearly, something was wrong with her head.

Ok, she could look at this from another angle.

Yes, she wanted to have sex with him. There was a physical attraction there that was undeniably getting stronger. True, he had said those things about never dating her, but did she want to be his girlfriend? No. She didn't trust him or his motives and she didn't truly fancy him. She just wanted to release some of this energy that had built between them. She was a practical girl; she could see nothing wrong with doing that as long as they both were unattached and nobody got hurt.

What was the worst that could happen?

Now, there was a tricky question. He could turn her down. He could ridicule her and call her a slag. He could be horribly mean and hurtful. He could humiliate her in front of the entire school.

The thing was that none of this would be anything new coming from him.

He could also accept and turn out to be a bad lover. It would be rather disappointing to have all this energy fizzle into nothing by having a less than satisfying encounter. She sort of doubted that would happen, though. This wasn't about technique or anything like that, it was about… his hands on her. How it made her feel. There really weren't many ways to mess that up, especially considering how good it had always felt in the past. It would be good no matter what.

She stared at her doodle.

Had she just casually decided to sleep with Draco Malfoy?

* * *

Draco's head was aching, but he was feeling mighty pleased with himself. He'd just finished another essay and that meant that as long as he got up early in the morning to do the last one he had, he would have the entire rest of the weekend off. He couldn't wait to do... nothing.

He had just put away his books, and was getting ready for bed, when there was a soft knock at his door. That was unexpected. And unwelcome. It was probably a clogged toilet somewhere. Hogwarts could really use some new plumbing. Or at the very least some students that dared bother the teachers or Filch directly. He certainly wasn't interested in dealing with this right now.

"Go away," he said with a slightly raised voice.

There was another knock, and he sighed

"I don't care," he said. "Find Nott if you really need someone to fix it right now." He began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'm not sure you mean that," a voice said.

He started and whirled around. He hadn't heard the door open.

Then he couldn't help but snarl. This was just cruel. "Leave, Granger."

She blinked. "Wow, I hadn't _quite_ pegged that as your response."

"You're here to test my boundaries," he growled. "Fucking great. They have been tested. Now, leave."

Instead she leaned against the door, studying him. "I didn't think you'd be _mad_."

Mad? It hurt. Badly. He knew she had no intention of going through with anything; she was just here to remind him that he wanted her. She knew he wasn't going to make her have sex with him just because she came down here and she'd just wanted to call his bluff. It was probably all because he'd been avoiding her lately and she needed to reassure herself that he was still a sucker for her.

Well, he was. But he didn't feel like reassuring her.

"What do you want?" he asked. Maybe he could at least hear her cover story.

"I want to talk."

"You couldn't find anybody else to talk to?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "I wanted to talk to _you_. About... about sex."

The shock rooted him in place, unable to respond. She was going to get him worked up talking about sex? Damn it, she hadn't even started and it was already working.

Right now he came very close to hating her.

"I mean…" she elaborated, when he didn't respond, "talk about _having_ sex. You and me."

She must want to torture him. That must be it.

The worst part was that he didn't even really want her to stop.

"You need to be more specific than that."

She was looking annoyed. "That _was_ specific."

"Not really. Are you here to shag or to talk?"

Her annoyance seemed to increase tenfold. "Keep responding like that and you'll never find out."

"I told you to stay away."

"No… you didn't really. You said you wouldn't answer for the consequences if I didn't…." She seemed to falter a bit. "Semantics," she muttered, fumbling behind her back for the door handle.

He decided she wasn't going to get away with this so easily and went over and leaned on the door, effectively both keeping it shut and invading her personal space. "So, start talking."

* * *

Hermione felt like such an idiot. She had known, hadn't she? He'd just wanted to keep her away and his hostile demeanor confirmed it. This was the most harebrained idea she had ever had. She just wanted to get out of there.

But he was actively preventing her, undoubtedly taking pleasure in her discomfort.

What was she supposed to reply?

"I forgot what I wanted to say." Ok, that was quite possibly the lamest reply _ever_.

He looked very much as if he thought the same thing. "Something to do with sex," he helpfully offered.

"Right. We shouldn't have it." She looked away. She couldn't do this. This was definitely the last time she would be so stupid. Yes, he had called her on her want, but he hadn't truly indicated that he still returned it. He had just proven a _point_. Why she had assumed otherwise, she wasn't sure anymore.

"You came all the way down here to tell me we shouldn't have sex?" he slowly asked. "At this hour? Just like that? I may not be as smart as you, but I find that hard to believe."

Praying for fortitude, she decided it was time to brazen it out. She shrugged. "Well, initially, I had thought we could discuss the nature of this attraction and whether it was strong enough to warrant actually _having_ sex, but you made your position pretty clear already so I don't think there's a lot more to talk about. It's nice to know, though. Keeps me from making any stupid mistakes." She cringed, fully anticipating that he'd point out that she'd already made the most stupid mistake.

For a very long moment he stared at her, his jaw slack. It would have been amusing if she hadn't been so focused on keeping up an uncaring appearance while being ready to be swallowed up by the ground.

Finally, he spoke. "You really do think I don't want you, don't you?"

And the embarrassment just got worse and worse. "Fine, you do," she managed. "But you want _any_ witch on _some_ level, don't you?"

"What? Where did you get that?" He frowned at her.

He was really standing too close. It just added to the feeling that he had the upper hand and she didn't like it. She tried to look at something that wasn't him, but he was filling her line of vision. "For instance, when _you_ were wearing the bracelet, you were just looking at some random girl and… feeling it." Oh, for crying out loud, why did she have to stumble on those last words? He had just looked at a girl and let her feel through the ring how he got randy; it wasn't such a big deal.

His face cleared and he grinned. "Oh, yeah."

She scowled at him. Good of him to remind her of a few more reasons why this was a bad idea.

"But I wasn't _thinking_ of her," he murmured.

Her eyes widened and she shrank away from him, considering whether getting away from his physical presence might be worth stepping into the room and away from the door. "Nice, Malfoy. I might have believed you if you hadn't overplayed your hand."

He groaned. "I honestly can't believe you won't believe me on this."

"You have to admit that the evidence is in my favor."

"And what evidence would that be?" he asked. "How I toss off until I'm practically raw whenever we've just spoken to each other? Or what about the 'evidence' you were there for when I could barely stop because I was _so_ ready to just—"

"So you get randy! I get it."

"Finally!"

"So do I!" Oh, _crap_, why had she said that? She must have lost her sense somewhere on her way here. Or possibly even before that. Why had she come here, again?

His interest certainly seemed to have been piqued. "Really?"

She ignored the fact that her face was practically flaming with the blushes that she had been so good at holding back just a few minutes ago. "I just don't believe it's all about _me_."

"Then who— what— ugh, you're impossible." He pushed away from the door just enough to finally let her breathe a bit.

She shrugged. "It's not like it even matters much."

"It matters."

She tilted her head. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because... it just does! It's just impossible."

"Right. Any particular reason for that?"

"Because even if dating you wasn't such a ludicrous concept in itself, it... just wouldn't work, would it?" Draco muttered, looking almost sad.

"Right," Hermione said, praying that her voice wouldn't betray how the reminder of how unsuitable she was stung, "but what does that have to do with having sex?"

* * *

Draco was convinced that he stared at her for a full minute. "Look," he finally croaked. "I'm not sure you realize…."

"Realize what?"

He ran a hand through his hair. Damn her. His head was spinning and she expected him to make _sense_? "You don't want to have sex with me."

"Why not?"

"Aren't those things supposed to _mean_ something?"

"What? Because I'm a girl?" Her expression clearly told him that 'yes' would be the wrong answer to that.

"Fickle," he muttered, earning a glare.

"That's a horribly outdated point of view," she said, turning her nose up at him. "I don't believe in just blindly sleeping around, but if there's a strong sexual attraction, I don't see why one shouldn't act on it. It would probably be better than what most people our age experience."

She was talking about _having sex_ with _him_ as if it might actually happen. As if it would be good. He would have to have been made of stone for that not to turn him on. "Just answer me something…" he whispered, invading her personal space again.

"What?" Was he imagining things or was she not drawing quite as far away as she normally would.

"Have you ever thought about me?" he muttered.

"Thought—?" she looked a little insecure about what he meant, and that cute blush seemed like it was there to stay.

"Yeah. While touching yourself…."

Her eyes widened. "Th-that's not—"

"Just reply, please."

She closed her eyes, looking quite mortified. He almost took pity on her. Almost. Then her eyes opened again and she straightened her back. "Yes."

A shiver went through him and his legs nearly gave out. Tease or no tease, this was worth it. It was his turn to close his eyes, as he couldn't help but imagine how she'd look. "Thank you," he whispered and had never meant anything quite as heartfelt in his life. It didn't even matter if she had lied.

He wanted her so much.

"I want you…." he quietly said.

"That's why I'm here."

This time the feeling of his legs giving out was so powerful that he was thankful he was leaning his weight against the door. It was insane that she should have this effect on him.

"It doesn't have to be tonight," she continued. "I realize that it's late and I—"

He kissed her just to make her shut up before she talked herself into changing her mind. Enough was enough. She stiffened in surprise, but then she hesitantly put her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, stepping closer and pressing against him.

He didn't think he'd ever felt quite this good before. He wanted her so badly that he literally just had to picture her _face_....

She seemed almost shy in the way she let him kiss her. He liked it—it beat her slapping him any day—but it was a bit odd compared to how she usually acted around him. He let his one hand slide down to her waist and around her back, pressing her closer to him. She complied. He let his lips slide down to her neck, and she made it easier for him. Going back up to her mouth, he grinned. If she was going to be this malleable for the whole thing, then… well!

"What's so funny?" she demanded, pushing away from him.

"You're easy." He grinned again when she gaped at him. "I _mean_," he said, before she got any ideas about what he meant, "you're compliant. I like it. Please be compliant more often."

She narrowed her eyes and shoved at him until he had to take a couple of steps backwards. "You really have no sense of self-preservation, do you?" she asked, shoving just as hard at him again, making him take another couple of steps until his legs hit his bed. "Words coming out of your mouth is always a bad thing." A third shove made him lose his balance and sit down heavily on the bed, where she straddled him. "Now, shut up." She kissed him deeply before he could even process what was happening.

Hermione was on _his_ lap, kissing _him_, and suddenly he'd forgotten what he'd been teasing her about. He flipped her onto the bed and crawled on top of her. _This_ was what he wanted to do more than anything. Who could blame him if he was just a tiny bit uncertain whether it was actually happening?

* * *

**She shoved at his shirt and he was more than willing to help her get it off, but then she suddenly went still. At first he didn't quite understand, for some reason he'd simply _forgotten_, but then he realized.**

**It was the Dark Mark.**


	78. Chapter 78

**I don't blame any of you for forgetting, since it's been 10 months in RL time, but Hermione has known about Draco's mark since chapter 53. Go ahead, check for yourselves. ;)**

**Well, as promised, here's a quicker update... tadaa!**

**And... who said double-tease? Why, I'd never!! *does her best offended act*  
**

* * *

No doubt a bit surprised to suddenly find herself _under_ Draco on the bed, Hermione stopped him before he could kiss her again. "I don't want you to rush it."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't recall shoving _you_ onto a bed."

"Yeah, but…." She hesitated. "Just give it a few minutes?"

He shook his head in bemusement. "Relax."

He did take great pains to slow down, though. The last thing he needed was for her not to be at the same level of need as him, and he had no problem with kissing and touching every inch of exposed flesh before very slowly exposing more and then kissing that as he went along.

In fact, he suddenly developed a very strange urge to take all night.

She wasn't having it, though. She was squirming impatiently and tearing at his clothes in a way that made him wonder why she had asked him to go slower in the first place. Not that he minded very much. She wanted him. Maybe only physically, but he could live with that.

She shoved at his shirt and he was more than willing to help her get it off, but then she suddenly went still. At first he didn't quite understand, for some reason he'd simply _forgotten_, but then he realized.

It was the Dark Mark.

Her lust-fogged mind had probably not considered that he still was the not-so-proud wearer of it. He loathed it now more than ever, but there wasn't really much to be done for it. He had looked into getting rid of it and so far he'd found no solution. It was there to stay. And it was going to turn her off. Perfect.

He tamped down his frustration; it wasn't as if he couldn't understand her reaction.

"Tell me you don't believe in those things... anymore," she quietly said.

Was she nuts? "You mean the things that ruined my life?" he asked, a hard edge to his voice. "Believe me, I really don't."

She looked him in the eyes. "Good. That's all I want to hear."

The eye contact and the implication that she wasn't leaving made him lose his breath.

He was beginning to realize that he might not mind so much if she should want more than just physical gratification from him. In fact, he would be willing to give quite a lot to have her feeling the things he was feeling right now—and not just through some jewelry, but for herself.

The question was whether he was willing to give _enough_. His own beliefs aside, there were still so many complications....

* * *

Damn quality cloth wouldn't just tear so they could get on with it! Hermione was feeling increasingly frustrated with Draco's blasted button-down flies. She wanted to feel more warm skin _now_, and he was taking too long! She'd been nervous that he'd just move directly to the intercourse part, which she knew from experience wouldn't be very pleasant if he did too soon, but now he just kept drawing it out.

She wanted him. Badly. Preparing herself and coming down here in the first place had taken all of her courage, and then she'd seen the blasted evidence of who he was or had been, and she really needed for them to stop talking and start… start… why weren't these trousers coming off? She needed to not _think_.

His hand came down and in two seconds flat achieved what she hadn't been able to do in two minutes. She scowled a bit, but then proceeded with the fun task of removing cloth. She could feel Draco reacting whenever she brushed bare skin, and even sometimes when she brushed over a clothed part of his body. It was as if he were highly sensitized to her touch. She liked it.

He stopped her when she wanted to remove his underwear, though. "What's the rush?" he murmured, his voice a little shaky.

She was getting to him and that felt so good she almost preened. He was right, however. She shouldn't rush it. Not if she wanted it to take more than a few minutes. And she did. So she decided to pace herself and explore his naked flesh with her hands instead. And her lips while she was at it. And to press against him with the rest of her body, stroking, rubbing, teasing….

It didn't take many minutes for him to stop that too by catching her hands and keeping her a few inches away from his body. She made a discontent sound and bucked against him, but he shook his head. "_You_ slow down just a bit, ok?"

Hermione pouted, but did as she was told. It was just… when she wasn't keeping her own hands and lips busy but instead focusing on what he was doing, it felt more _intimate_ in a way she couldn't explain. It made her slightly uncomfortable. She put her hands on his chest, pushing him just an inch away. "I… don't…"

He sighed, and she could have sworn that he looked resigned, before his expression went blank. "Relax. I know what you want."

What _she_ wanted? She pushed a little harder at him. "If you don't want—"

He cut her off with a kiss that was noticeably harder than the others and shushed her. "I want it too. The way it's done doesn't matter that much to me."

She didn't have a _way_, did she?

He kissed her again, more fully than before. If this was her _way_, she could live with it. She hooked her right leg around his left and pushed up against him, very satisfied to feel him responding. She certainly wasn't sorry she'd come here anymore. She wanted to touch him again, though. She wanted to run her hands all over him.

It didn't take her long to put thought into action, making him tense up a bit and then grab her hands again. Such a spoilsport. He then transferred both of her hands to his own right hand, and keeping them above her head, began removing her shirt. Oh, right. She was still mostly dressed.

She marveled at his precise movements as he kissed her again. One of those deep, languorous kisses that made her toes curl. Once he moved his lips to her neck where he nipped her hard enough to leave a mark, Hermione realized that he'd somehow used those precise movements to get rid of her shirt—he must have used magic too because otherwise it was _impossible_ that she hadn't noticed before now—and open her bra _and_ trousers. Crafty. Rehearsed. Not something she was going to dwell on.

"Stop looking so dismayed," he murmured in her ear. "I won't go too fast but I _need_ to see you...."

She smiled at him and bucked up so she could better push her trousers down past her bum. Tonight he was with her and very much looking like that was where he wanted to be. He felt like it too. Granted, there had been some doubts, but those were pretty much gone by now. The way he was greedily staring at her body told her plenty. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

* * *

Draco did his best to swallow his groan. She was bloody gorgeous. He really had to do his best to keep her touching him to a minimum or this would be over too fast. It wasn't just that he wanted her body, which he really, _really_ did, but there was this almost overwhelming feeling intensifying everything, threatening his self-control. He tried his best to bury that feeling so she wouldn't notice, but _he_ knew it was there in everything he did—even as he was trying to do things her way.

Her way. She wanted him to be more physical and rougher than what came natural to him lately. The upside to that was that concentrating on giving her what she wanted kept his own libido slightly better in check. The downside was that he yearned to be softer with her. Best not to dwell too much on why.

It really didn't matter, though. She was down to her knickers and she didn't seem like she was going to stop him this time. He was having a really hard time not just attacking her lovely breasts and letting their bodies take them wherever they might go, but much as she disliked him being too affectionate with her, he was fairly certain that that particular approach wouldn't score him any points. Self-control really was the key.

"Please, Draco," Hermione moaned in a voice that nearly finished him off. "Please."

They really were going to do this, weren't they? She wasn't going to stop him this time. He certainly wasn't going to stop on his own. Of course, he'd never actually… he'd never….

Just like that he was hit with mind-numbing fear.

He'd never. She would expect a kind of experience that he most certainly did not have. He _wanted_ to give her anything she wanted and he _knew_ he could do this, but she probably thought he had had sex with Pansy. People generally did.

He should warn her, just in case. To prepare her. He didn't particularly want to, but he didn't think he could quite live with doing this and having it be a disappointment to her. Not when he wanted her this much.

He broke free. "Wait…."

She immediately looked cautious. He wished it wasn't like that between them.

"I-I…." Draco found that it was quite hard to confess his own lack of experience.

"You didn't mean this 'that' way?" she mockingly guessed. "You changed your mind? You just don't feel like it after all? You would prefer to keep it a fantasy?" She was obviously fighting to keep her voice level.

"Don't be stupid," he muttered.

"Then what is it this time? Be quick about it."

He was going to express his annoyance at her being so bitchy while he was trying to confess, when he noticed the look of hurt on her face that she was trying and failing to hide.

She really did think he was going to turn her down? When they were both almost naked and he was just about ready to burst?

Maybe he shouldn't be wasting their time on technicalities.

She began struggling against him and opened her mouth to say something else, and he knew he had to act quickly or this would stop and he just couldn't take that. Not again. Not tonight. Not when he wanted this so much. So he kept his peace and kissed her instead. Maybe she'd find him out and reject him, but... the alternative seemed to be certain rejection.

She fairly quickly became pliant again. "Then what?" she murmured.

"Nothing," he whispered back.

"Well, clearly--"

He covered her mouth with his hand. "Shut up."

She made an annoyed face at him and removed his hand. "Way to seduce me."

He grinned, finding a strange kind of reassurance in her sarcasm. "That's not seducing, but you need to stop yammering so I can get to it."

* * *

Hermione pouted. She really wanted to know what had Draco briefly be so hesitant and even look slightly insecure. She refused to feel like a fool for assuming that he was going to stop, though. Look at all the other times they had almost had sex! Whatever it was didn't seem to bother him anymore, though. His caresses had returned with a vengeance, making her squirm beneath him.

She had always felt that Draco was good at spotting people's weaknesses and exploiting them. Well, that applied in bed as well. The way he _listened_ and watched her responses and used it to do exactly what felt best was... almost too much. It felt good. It felt strange. It made her uncomfortable to know he could be that perceptive.

"Please," she begged again. "Just take me." The thought of him inside of her made her tremble. She hadn't even realized how badly she wanted it before, and now it was as if she'd burn up if it didn't happen _soon_.

He seemed to hesitate a little again. "Could I, um, could I perhaps get you off first?" he asked without looking her in the eyes.

_Huh?_ And was that blush from his arousal, or...?

When she didn't immediately answer, he looked at her and shrugged. "I'd just really like to watch you come. It's my biggest fantasy. I don't think it'd take much longer. I'm sure you're capable of doing it several times, so it wouldn't ruin any... ah, just say yes."

Hermione looked at him a little warily. "H-how?"

He raised an eyebrow as if to say, '_how do you think?_' but then he just let his fingers brush against her knickers in a way that sent a jolt of sensations through her. "Any way you like, really, but I thought I'd just touch you a bit."

Hermione could only whimper in reply. She needed release. His mouth and fingers really were talented; it was a shame she hadn't really considered that before.

"So, is that a yes, then?" the evil bugger asked, repeating the motion.

"Just get on with it," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth.

Draco smirked—oh, God, now she even found his smirk sexy—and lightly kissed her, before whispering in her ear, "I love it when you boss me around."

"I thought you loved it when I was pliant," she choked out as he was removing her knickers and she, somewhere in the back of her mind, was marveling at just how shy she _wasn't_ about that.

"I like a little bit of both," he conceded.

Anything he might or might not have said after that was lost as Hermione quite literally saw sparks. The part of her mind that wouldn't stop reasoning came up with some theory about hormones scrambling her brains, but the rest of her was too busy focusing on how it felt to _care_ about anything else. It felt so good. He was right. This wouldn't take long.

"Ah, Hermione," he groaned against her throat. "Please come soon. Please."

She wanted to kiss, so she turned her head and he obliged more than willingly, almost devouring her. When she touched his chest, he tensed up again, but this time he didn't remove her hands. Instead, his touching became more focused.

She fought the feelings back. She wanted to draw this out. She wanted to _feel_ him. She let her hands wander down below his waistline, resulting in more tensing and this time he did remove her hands again, even though she hadn't even ventured inside his underwear... yet. "Bad idea, Hermione," he muttered.

"You afraid you'll come?" she asked, feeling just a little bit smug, even though she was close herself. So close....

He grunted, apparently not as amused. "You can touch later, if you like."

She gasped, unable to keep her mind on his words when another jolt shot through her. He really did have good fingers, didn't he? She gasped again. Then her eyes widened. "Oh!" And then her entire body convulsed and she grabbed onto Draco's shoulders, hanging on for dear life while her brain most definitely short-circuited.

* * *

**Yeah, I know, evil and dragging out and all that, but trying for same length chapters here! :P**

*****  
**

** Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, "I love you."**

**She froze, eyes wide. He'd shocked her. Then she opened her mouth as if to say something, and he hurriedly covered it with his own. He knew that whatever she would have to say, it wouldn't be _'I love you _****_too_' ...**


	79. Chapter 79

**After this one, we're back at longer waits, I'm afraid. Just thought these chapters were better not kept too far apart. ;)**

**I had minor surgery today. So don't tell me I'm not dedicated. ;P**

* * *

Draco prayed for fortitude. He was going out of his mind here. He'd never experienced anything quite as sexy as a naked Hermione squirming and moaning in his arms, and he really doubted she was aware of the way she squeezed his hand tight with her thighs, or the way she hung onto him, softly moaning in his ear. She certainly wouldn't be aware of how she flushed when she was about to come and her eyes became more and more feverish until—

He wouldn't last.

He had suspected that he wouldn't and that was half the reason he'd wanted to get her off first, but now he _knew_. There was no way in hell he was lasting very long after this. His entire body was trembling with holding back and he just wanted to let go, but he couldn't. Not yet.

Hermione's body relaxed somewhat and he finally managed to free his hand. Not that he particularly wanted to; he just sort of had to. He leaned away from her a bit to look her over.

"What are you doing?" she muttered.

_Wank material._

Probably not what she wanted to hear.

"You look beautiful." He wasn't lying. Normally, he wouldn't have said it, but everything considered, he figured it wasn't such a bad thing to say.

She did get that annoyed look on her face, though. The expression that clearly told him that she thought everything he said was a lie. "Right."

"Stop it," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again because he had to do something or die from Rampant Erection Syndrome. "I'm allowed to think you're beautiful right now," he added.

Her face softened. "I'm sorry," she quietly said. "It's pretty obvious that you're in a bad way." She pulled him in for another kiss, pressing all of her naked glory against him.

He wanted to ask her how long she'd need to recover, but he didn't want it to come across the wrong way, so he decided to simply suffer until she took the initiative instead. If he even survived that long.

"Weren't these supposed to go?" she asked, referring to his underwear.

He'd kept it on on purpose, actually, in order not to get too excited and do something stupid like, say, come on her thigh.

He tried very hard to block the mental image of his come on her thighs and the response that image sparked in him. It really didn't take much right now, did it?

"Yeah, they were," he muttered, trying very hard to think of something else as she removed the last piece of clothing from him.

"How close are you?" she asked, tentatively touching him.

"M-maybe too...." He closed his eyes. She would call him on his inexperience now. '_Are you sure you've done this before?_' But as long as she'd touch him like that a little longer, he supposed it didn't matter all that much.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispered.

His eyes shot open and he stared at her. _What?_

She patiently repeated the question.

"Are you sure?" he asked, feeling a little bit stupid the second the words were out. They were _naked_, for crying out loud. How much more sure did any sane person need the other one to be?

"Soon I'm going to think that you don't want to. Again...." Fortunately she didn't look annoyed. Good. He hadn't offended her. Yet.

He knew there were supposed to be thoughts in his head, but his mind was a perfect blank. He couldn't think of a single thing to fill the void where his thoughts were supposed to be.

She gave him a _look_ and he forced himself out of the blank state. "I do want you." Ok, maybe not entirely out, but it was a marginal improvement.

He was still trying to come up with better words to form better sentences when the evil little witch made all the words flee again by intimately caressing him. Before he could tell her that it probably wasn't such a good idea, however, she'd grabbed hold of him and positioned him exactly where he wanted to be.

"This goes there," she whispered in his ear, hardly trying to hide her amusement. "Think you can take it from here or do you need more help?"

At least, he noted with some satisfaction, she was breathless too. She was eager in her own right for this to happen. That helped his insecurities tremendously.

"Feel free to help me all you like," he muttered and pushed forward.

Then there was bliss and not much else.

He was vaguely aware that she gasped as he entered her and that she was again squirming and feverish. Only vaguely, though, because all of his attention was directed towards how amazing this was feeling and how to make it last longer than thirty seconds.

"Please... don't... move..." he choked out, trying very hard to keep himself in check.

She didn't obey, but pressed against him in a way that made him enter her even more fully. He felt himself breaking into a sweat as he fought to stay in control. He wanted so badly to just move. To have the orgasm of his life. But he needed to hold back because... because.... He wasn't really sure why he needed to hold back anymore, his brain was sort of fuzzy, but he knew it was important.

"Let go," Hermione whispered in his ear. "It's all right." She moved against him, making him see stars, and _someone_ that couldn't be him actually whimpered.

Then his self-control broke and he blindly began moving. She was running her hands over his back and kissing his throat, neck, shoulders, lips, anything she could reach.

It was driving him nuts.

He never wanted her to stop.

His movements became rougher, faster and more erratic, but he couldn't slow it down. He couldn't force himself to show more finesse. She didn't even seem to want him to. She urged him on and he was helpless to resist her.

Only with her could it be like this. She may not want to be his last, but she'd always be his first. Nothing could ever change that now.

The orgasm blindsided him. Suddenly, his world was consumed and for a moment there was only them. She was still pressing her body against him, kissing him, probably not even knowing that those kisses meant more to him than any amount of sex could.

He wanted it to last forever.

But of course it didn't.

He collapsed, breathing heavily and deciding that he was a clueless git for the decisions he'd made regarding her. While money _could_ buy him sex, if that was what he wanted, he was sure it couldn't buy him anything remotely like this. And he wanted this. Badly. He wanted her. He wanted to make her realize how he felt and make her feel some of the same. She had to feel _something_ already or she wouldn't have slept with him. She wasn't that kind of person.

He raised his head with some effort and sought her mouth in a kiss, hoping she wasn't averse to it now they were in the _after _stage. Somewhat to his surprise, she accepted the kiss and even returned it with some enthusiasm. As the haze finally began to lift from his brain, he began registering little signs. Her breathing was erratic. Her skin was flushed. The way she still touched him, although restrained and softer now, had nothing to do with wanting to cuddle.

He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in and trying to _not_ realize the obvious.

As predicted, he had been inadequate for her. The moment had been his alone.

* * *

Hermione tried to get her breathing under control. _Oh, my!_ If _that_ wasn't the most intensely erotic experience of her life, she didn't know what was. Once Draco had been coaxed to let go, he'd _really_ let go and... oh, my!

She should probably be having regrets but she couldn't find it within herself. Maybe later.

He seemed unwilling to move and for a while she let him stay, but then she began needing more oxygen to function, so she slowly began disentangling her legs from his as a gentle reminder that they couldn't stay like this.

He immediately tensed up. "Wait!"

She froze, more with puzzlement than anything else. "For what?"

"Not done."

She frowned in confusion. "You feel done to me?"

He flushed and clenched his jaw. "Just give me a minute."

Hermione felt she was missing something. Not an uncommon occurrence when it came to Draco, of course, but it was still unsettling. Especially considering that they had just had sex. "What's the matter?"

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "It didn't count."

She blinked. "Um... why didn't it count?" As far as she'd been able to tell he'd had a very intense and satisfying orgasm, so she couldn't quite grasp why it wouldn't _count_.

His flush deepened. "Just shut up and I'll make it count!"

She frowned slightly, giving up on understanding him. Besides, she had no problem at all with continuing, although once she left this bed, it was probably better if she didn't return to it. It was just a little strange. As if he needed to prove something.

"Stop thinking," he murmured. "Just feel, ok?"

She could do that, she supposed. She closed her eyes and _felt_. He was touching her again and kissing her neck, murmuring some rather meaningless nonsense about how pretty she was and how good this felt. She decided to believe it—just for now, tomorrow would come soon enough—and was quite surprised just how good a few casual lust-induced compliments made her feel.

He began slowly moving again and hissed as if he were tender. It didn't keep his eyes from closing on a subsequent groan, though. So, he enjoyed it but they probably had to go slower this time. Pity. She had liked the pure need of the first time. When he'd come, she'd literally held her breath, shuddering with him at the sheer impact of it all.

But slow could probably be nice too.

"I want you so much," he whispered in her ear.

More nonsense. Boys really did say anything when you were having sex with them, didn't they? But it was sort of sweet, and so she kissed him. Softly.

He froze for a second as if surprised, but then he gained a determined look. "I know what you want," he murmured against her lips, catching her hands and entwining his fingers with hers, keeping them at each side of her head. "And I'll give it to you."

She wanted to know what he thought she wanted, but the way he kissed and nibbled at her lips was distracting her.

Then, carefully, he began gradually going faster. She wanted to tell him not to if he were sore, but when she opened her mouth, all that escaped was a shaky groan that made him go harder. Faster.

She wanted to touch him and had a brief struggle to free her hands, but he just squeezed them tighter in place.

"Please..." she begged.

He made a slightly choked sound and did release one of her hands, grabbing her thigh and hoisting it up a bit for deeper penetration. She took the chance to run her hand up his arm to his back and to the front to touch his chest. He was damp from the effort. But what he was doing felt so good.

"I love your skin," he murmured, leaning slightly forward to kiss her neck. "Soft and tasty."

She wanted to make a clever comeback, but she couldn't quite manage it. Instead she just moaned his name.

He tensed a bit. "Do that again."

She did.

With some frustrated-sounding obscenities, he grabbed a hold of her hand again and his motions intensified. "Not again," she thought she heard him mutter. "I can't do that _twice_. God, Hermione, please don't do this to me."

Do what? Oh, this felt good. Very good. Almost... her eyes widened in surprise. She was a realist. She knew the odds of certain things happening, so she hadn't paid that much attention to the sensations building inside of her. The odds of orgasming from vaginal stimulation alone were—

"Draco!" She tensed.

"Now _you_ let go," he murmured. "Please, please, please, please...."

He kissed her deeply and she tensed more and more until it was unbearable and she short-circuited in a strangely new yet familiar way.

* * *

_Thank God!!!_

At least if this was what he thought it was. He wasn't completely certain, but quite frankly, he was as certain as he was going to be, because he couldn't hold back much longer.

He slowed down a bit. He was getting winded and she seemed like maybe it was getting a little _too_ intense for her. Besides, he didn't know if she'd ever let him make love to her again and he wanted to go slow for just a minute before it was over.

She was so wonderful. More than he deserved.

He was... She was... He didn't quite know how to put words to these feelings.

He let her hands go, shifting his weight a bit so there was more skin against skin without him crushing her. He was so close, but he didn't want to stop. She caressed his back and offered him kisses. Soft kisses, just like he sometimes dreamed.

And then he did know.

Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, "I love you."

She froze, eyes wide. He'd shocked her. Then she opened her mouth as if to say something, and he hurriedly covered it with his own. He knew that whatever she would have to say, it wouldn't be _'I love you too_', but he allowed himself the fantasy that she'd said just that.

Unable to hold back anymore, he let go, trying and failing not to moan into her mouth as he came. He'd never felt like this before. Ever.

Afterwards, when he was fighting hard to get his thoughts and feelings back in order, he prevented her from speaking again with more kisses. He couldn't bear to have her shatter the fantasy just yet.

"Whatever it is, it can wait," he murmured against her lips. "Let's just... sleep for a bit, ok?" He only allowed for her to answer with a reluctant nod.

Satisfied that she was staying, he laid down to go to sleep with her in his arms. It felt so _right_. Since she was staying, maybe it didn't feel entirely wrong to her, either? They probably did need to talk in the morning to figure out where they stood and maybe… maybe she'd give him a chance.

He could always hope.

When he woke up the next morning, she was gone.

* * *

**"W-what about what you said then?"**

**"What I said?" His lip curled derisively. "You mean that I _love_ you?"**

**Hermione winced. The words were bad enough, but the way he said it, as if it was beyond ridiculous to believe in such a thing... it made her feel silly. And small.**


	80. Chapter 80

**Been a while, sorry. Could get into details about why, but the A/N would get too long. Suffice it to say that I've been sick and Kupo's been (and is still a little) sick and then there's been other general stuff. To even get it out today, Maz, my bf and Kupo's father, has been doing way more than his fair share of everything, especially looking after the baby.**

**I'm almost at 4000 reviews on this site. Thank you so much for your continuing support! I read all reviews, but I hope you understand that I don't have the time to reply much. I know it can feel like talking to a brick wall sometimes when I don't respond to PMs / mails / comments / tweets / IMs, but it's not intentional. I'm not always around or have the time / remember to reply in a timely fashion. I am scatter-brained like nobody else I know. There, it's out. XD**

* * *

Draco sat leaned back in a sofa in his common room and stared at the ceiling. So. This was how it was going to be, then? He wasn't terribly surprised, just a little disappointed. He'd hoped that things would have been different, maybe even easier, after what had happened between Hermione and himself, but... no such luck.

Although, to say that things were _hard_ was an exaggeration, he supposed. She was not giving him a hard time at all. She was just avoiding him when she could, and the very few times she couldn't, like for classes and such, she was apparently pretending that nothing had happened.

She was doing a damn convincing job of it too. If it hadn't been for all the physical evidence to the contrary, he'd be questioning his sanity right about now. Even if he could have told himself that he was fooling himself and that he'd messed up his own bed, she'd apparently been in a great enough hurry to sneak out to not bother finding her bra, which had somehow been tucked under his pillow.

He did _not_ just imagine bras, no matter how nice souvenirs they made.

So, basically, they had made love or whatever he was supposed to call it, and it didn't seem to have made the slightest impact on her. Or she was damn good at lying to herself as well as everyone else.

Shouldn't he be able to tell somehow? It was entirely possible that he'd misread her responses and seen what he wanted to see in the heat of the moment. It wasn't unlikely that she hadn't gotten anything from it at all.

Except, of course, that stupid declaration of love that she did not want.

He sighed. It really was no wonder that she was avoiding him. Hell, he'd probably be doing the same thing in her place. It hadn't been what she'd been asking for. He'd just... felt it so strongly in that moment that he'd had to share it with her.

Yes, he'd felt _something_ strongly, all right. But that had hardly been controlled by his _heart_ and it had been a stupid thing to say. A very stupid thing. It didn't take a lot of brain power to realize that such a statement would scare her off at this point.

How was he going to get her to come back to his bed if he couldn't even satisfy her _and_ he was shoving excess emotional baggage at her when all she wanted was a physical connection?

He was in love with her, though. No use denying it. He should probably be panicking or wishing that he hadn't told her but… no. It was just one of those things; nothing to get all worked up about. Not for him, anyway. What was the worst that could happen? Hermione wasn't the kind to make fun of him or tell all her friends so… pretty much this and he had expected this much.

True, he did ultimately want her to return his feelings, but he was looking at the odds here. The odds that he could talk her back into his bed were much higher than the odds that he could make her fall in love with him—and that still wasn't saying much.

He'd take whatever he could get, though, so he needed to somehow get her attention back on him. Her _positive _attention.

* * *

It wasn't really nice to cast spells on anyone without their knowledge. Hermione knew that. But when she'd found that nifty little location spell, she'd not even thought twice about using it on Draco so she could know where he was at.

Not so much to know where he was as to know where he _wasn't_, because that was where _she_ wanted to be.

It wasn't like it was a permanent spell or anything, anyway. She just cast it every once in a while to prevent any uncomfortable meetings.

She had never felt as rotten before in her whole life as she was feeling now.

_Love_. That had _not_ been the plan. That was... that was... that was simply unacceptable! It wasn't what she'd signed up for. She didn't _want_ him to say such things. It was not like he even meant it! He was just messing with her head... again!

But if it _were_ true.... No, it couldn't be. How could she have missed any indications of it?

Ok, maybe she had missed it due to him repeatedly telling her how unsuitable and unworthy she was. But that just enhanced the insanity of it all—how could she be supposed to know if he had _those_ kind of feelings for her when he claimed that he never even wanted to date her?

She couldn't have known! And, besides, maybe he was just deluding himself. Yeah, that was probably it. Self-delusion made much more sense.

It didn't keep her from feeling like a horrible person, though. Even if he was deluding himself or even just trying to fool her, she had effectively taken advantage of him just to get her own itch taken care of. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but... now she just wanted to cry.

She couldn't be held responsible for the choices _he_ made! She'd given him an offer and he'd taken it, knowing what it was!

She wasn't supposed to feel this confused and upset just because he couldn't be honest one way or the other to save his life.

But... she definitely hadn't wanted to _hurt_ him. It had all been supposed to be a good thing. Some great sex to work out the chemistry between them. Sometimes that was all it took—just look at that _thing_ that had once occurred between Ginny and Blaise!

She hadn't even been able to face him the next morning, so she'd snuck off like a thief in the night while he'd still been asleep. Even back in fourth year when she'd made the mistake of her life and slept with Viktor Krum, she hadn't been that callous. She should have woken Malfoy up and told him that she was leaving, but it had simply been too hard to face him.

So, she'd left and had done her best to avoid him ever since.

It was the coward's way and she hated herself for it, but each day it became harder to face him.

At least he didn't actually want to date her. That made it slightly better, right? As long as she kept her distance and made it easy for him, she did not deserve a painful, fiery death for this... right? No promises had been made. They hadn't even been friends before, so nothing would be broken there either.

Hermione took a deep breath. What was done was done. She should remember that. Now she should take advantage of it being Friday night with not a soul in sight here at the library. Her vast emotional overreactions weren't helping anyone anyway.

She was never having sex again. _Ever_.

* * *

"Hey, Draco!"

"Draco's not in right now."

Blaise stopped up and gave Draco an annoyed look. Ok, so maybe it was a bit cheeky to claim he was 'not in' when he was splayed all over the common room sofa, but he just wasn't in the _mood_.

"What is it, then?" Draco sighed.

"I have good news," Blaise replied, still scowling a bit.

"What? They now serve meals in the Great Hall five times a day?" Draco guessed with a small twitch of his lips. "I swear, there's very little besides nagging me and food that gets you excited these days...."

"You're wrong. There's Tracey."

"Oh, yeah, Tracey...." Draco looked away. Even if Blaise was grateful for the second chance, Draco couldn't help but feel a little guilty that he'd made sure that Blaise was effectively being led on by a girl that did not really want him.

"She's agreed to go with me to Hogsmeade next week!"

Draco sighed inwardly. "That's good, mate."

"Just a tad more enthusiasm on your part and we might be talking about my funeral."

"No, look, it's good. It really is."

Blaise crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a _date_. In public. Did you even _try_ to get one of those?"

Draco almost laughed. He'd slept with the girl he was having much more than a passing crush on two weeks ago and she'd spent every waking moment since then eluding him. Even if he could catch her, he sincerely doubted she would be interested in a _date_. "One thing at a time, Blaise."

"What _thing_ are you working on, then?" Blaise was looking very skeptical.

"Getting her to stop avoiding me," Draco muttered, figuring his game was up. "Say, what time is it?"

"Almost midnight." It seemed to dawn on Blaise what had just been said. "You're... actually doing something besides moping? What about the money and all that other crap you were spewing?"

"I'll worry about that if it's ever an issue." Which probably meant never. Draco got to his feet. He hoped that _this_ time he managed to catch her before she went to bed.

* * *

"Tracking spell?" an all-too-familiar voice asked, startling Hermione out of her book.

She shot Draco a wary glance. It had been two weeks since they'd... well, talked. It was odd. "Location spell," she admitted. And she'd forgotten to check on his whereabouts for the past hour, thinking he'd be asleep by now. _Damn_. She quickly grabbed a book to return it, hoping he would have some mercy and leave her alone.

"Tracking spell works better," he calmly said, following her. "You can get it to set off alarms too if you don't want the one you track to get too close."

"Good to know," she muttered, pretending to be looking for the right spot to put it.

"Don't avoid me, Hermione," he quietly said, taking the book from her and putting it back in the obvious gap.

"I'm-I'm sorry," she muttered, avoiding his eyes. Ugh, she hated herself so much. It almost overshadowed how much she resented _him_.

"Why are you uncomfortable around me?" he asked. "_You_ sought _me_ out. I'm sorry if it... if it wasn't what you wanted, but I tried to give you what you asked for."

"I know." She still couldn't look at him.

"So, what is it? If it weren't up to your standards, just tell me how to fix that."

That made her stare at him. _Fix_ it? What? He wanted another go?

He flinched at her look and muttered, "There are other ways to fix something, you know."

She slowly shook her head and looked away again. "Look, I'm sorry if I mislead you..."

"You didn't," he interrupted rather abruptly. "Can't a bloke wish for more sex without having been mislead?" His voice was hardening.

"W-what about what you said then?"

"What I said?" His lip curled derisively. "You mean that I _love_ you?"

Hermione winced. The words were bad enough, but the way he said it, as if it was beyond ridiculous to believe in such a thing... it made her feel silly. And small.

He made a dismissive sound. "I don't know how to tell you this, but I hadn't actually _done_ it before..."

"Oh, I realized that," she replied with a shrug. It had been fairly obvious, after all, with the way he'd hesitated and how he'd been fighting for control. Sure, it had surprised her a little bit, considering his dating history, but it didn't actually matter.

Now he was the one to stare for a second. "Thanks. Very reassuring. Anyway, whatever I may or may not have said, you can't... you can't take it very seriously."

"So... you didn't mean it?" she asked with a slight frown. "It was all just pillow talk?"

"Exactly."

* * *

Draco gave the performance of his life pretending none of this mattered, while Hermione was giving him the skeptical once-over.

Denying how he felt was hard. Really hard. In a perfect world, she'd be ok with him loving her, even if she didn't return his feelings. But she wasn't ok with it. She was upset. He wasn't sure why it was so awful that it upset rather than flattered her, but part of being in love with her was _not_ wanting to upset her anymore than he had to. Besides, she was very obviously not currently going to let him close to her again if she believed he had feelings for her.

So he lied.

Convincingly.

Surprisingly bitterly.

"You would say something like that and not mean it?" she asked rather incredulously.

Sometimes she was so endearingly naïve, but he was sent here to shatter her faith in human nature, even though he _had_ indeed meant it. Oh, the irony. And the way she looked at him actually made it hard, but what else was he supposed to do? "Yes."

And he watched her go from what had seemed to be the brink of tears to extreme annoyance with him. It wasn't so bad when she was mad at him. He could easily live with that. He just wished that she didn't also look disappointed in him. Disappointed in the kind of lies he would tell. The kind of lies he'd never told.

Had he mentioned the irony of it?

"_Why_ would you say something like that and not mean it?" she demanded. "That's just... cruel! What if I'd believed you?"

"You did believe me."

She made an annoyed dismissive motion. "What if I'd _wanted_ it?"

Then he would have been a very happy wizard indeed. Giddy, even. Probably kissing her right now. He looked away, quite unable to look her in the eye for a second. "Then we would have dealt with that."

"You can't just go around _saying _things like that!" She all but stomped her foot.

Now he was truly becoming puzzled. "I didn't hurt anyone."

"You _could_ have!"

She was becoming upset again for some reason he couldn't quite understand. And he wasn't even sure what to say. "I thought you'd be pleased," he finally managed rather lamely.

"I am!" she said, looking everything _but_ pleased. "But you have no idea how— ugh, I can't even look at you right now." She began pushing past him.

He gaped for just a second, but then he gathered enough of his wits to catch her against the bookcase. "No, finish that sentence, Hermione," he said, feeling anger wash through him. Another sacrifice wasted on her. If she was going to stay like this, then why should he have to lie to make her feel better? He would have preferred to not have to pretend again if it didn't even change anything. "Let me know how that affected _you_," he added. "How _you_ were upset that it might be true. What if it had been? Where would that have left _me_?"

In Hell shaped like a library, staring at the girl he couldn't have after denying his own heart, that's where.

"That's exactly it!" she shot back at him.

He blinked. "What?"

She visibly fought to keep her composure. "I didn't come to your room to take advantage of any feelings you might have for me. I went there because I thought we might want the same thing. T-to realize what I had—thought I had—done.... Nobody was supposed to get hurt."

"Nobody did," he quietly replied. He'd known exactly what was going on; he hadn't been hurt or thought she was using his feelings. He'd been happy to just get that part of her.

"Now you tell me!" She shook her head. "For weeks I've been trying to figure out if I missed any signs that obviously weren't even there, or if I could have done anything to prevent it. I felt awful! So just... stay away."

She pushed him away, and he let her go, trying to figure out whether he should be hurt at the way she'd fretted about him having unrequited feelings for her, as if it were the last thing in the world she wanted, or elated that she _cared_ that he might get hurt.

* * *

**"Restricted section?" Draco asked as he was coming out of the shadows. "So that's where you spend your nights. You naughty girl!"**

**"Nothing naughty about it," Hermione replied, not quite knowing whether to scowl, roll her eyes or laugh.**

**He glanced at her book as he sat down. "Contraceptives? I think that falls into the realm of premeditated naughtiness."**


	81. Chapter 81

**Yes, it's been a while and it may be a while again before the next one. I'm rather fatigued lately and the baby and such take precedence over ficcing. I actually tried to update yesterday but ffnet wouldn't cooperate. D: And today I have been trying to update for hours, but Kupo pulled a magic trick on me. Want to know what a baby's magic trick is? Here's a hint: It ends in POOP EVERYWHERE!  
**

**If you lack fics to read, there's another round of voting going on at Dramione Awards on LJ: Best of 2008. I'll update my profile to hold a link. :) And I'll also update my profile to link to the amazing BRACELET trailer Breenieweenie made ages ago. I had pimped it but apparently not linked it there. Shame on me. Thanks to LoverGurrl411 for letting me know it was missing.**

**A shout out to my sometime content betas MazVN (my boyfriend), Margot LeFaye, kerri240879 and TomFeltonIsKindaHot. They may not have feedback for every single chapter, but the input they do give me is invaluable. Margot LeFaye, kerri240879 and TomFeltonIsKindaHot also have their own brilliant fics out there. If you frequent GE or affnet, check out kerri and TFIKH's stuff, or look Margot up on insanejournal (margotlefaye) until Coloured Grey is back. You won't regret it.**

* * *

"I thought you were going to try and talk to Granger."

And here Draco had thought that Blaise didn't even know where the library _was_.

Monday was never complete in all its miserable glory without a nagging Blaise sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Draco had Blaise's annoying tendencies all figured out, though. This was why Blaise had such an easy time getting most girls—because he understood how they thought and in his own calculating and using way, he was quite sensitive to how they felt.

In other words: Blaise was such a _girl_.

Draco did wish he had that some of talent, though. Maybe then he could figure out how to get on Hermione's good side.

He also wished there were some way to turn Blaise's perception off. Draco wasn't some bird and he really wish Blaise would stop with the heart-to-hearts already. "I did try," Draco muttered at Blaise, who was still expectantly looking at him.

"Obviously not hard enough."

Having had it, Draco threw down his quill—albeit not violently enough for anyone to truly notice—and sneered. "Damn it, Blaise! If she doesn't want to talk to me or be around me, I can't bloody well make her! She has good reason to feel the way she does, so leave me alone already!"

Blaise looked very unimpressed. "Of course she does. You're an egomaniac with your head up your arse. But she's a stuck-up bitch, so I think you two are practically perfect for each other."

Draco felt a strange urge to laugh even though he wasn't even amused. Blaise honestly didn't seem to get it. "Why do you keep doing this to me? It's not going to happen."

"Well, ok, maybe you won't live happily ever after and make babies and all that, but I thought that maybe you'd settle for less?"

"Less?" Draco echoed.

Blaise shrugged. "Yeah, you know. Get some of that sexual tension out of your system?"

"Sexual tension?" Oh, this was going to be good, wasn't it? At least if you found wanting to reach inside your ear to grab a hold of your brain and squeeze it really tight just so it would bleed out that much faster good.

He wondered if a library book could be used as a lethal weapon. It probably could with enough sheer force. Or maybe Draco could 'accidentally' drop one of those really huge ancient volumes that could only be floated around, on Blaise's head. People would believe him if he called it an accident. Even if they didn't believe him, they'd surely sympathize.

"Did someone put a parroting hex on you?" Blaise frowned irritably. "You have to know about the tension. It's so thick you can cut it with a knife. I think you could get her into bed. That would have to count for something, right?"

"Like you did with Tracey Davis?" Draco hadn't really meant to sound quite _that_ sarcastic.

Blaise's lips thinned as he visibly fought back annoyance. "Tracey and I don't compare to the two of you. I'm just offering to help you find a way into Granger's bed. After that you're on your own."

Oh, the irony! "No, thanks," Draco said. "I appreciate the offer, but... no, thanks."

"'No' is not an option," Blaise said, putting on his stubborn face.

"No, I—" Draco sighed and lowered his voice. "I really don't need your help with that, all right?"

"What do you mean, you 'don't need' it? If you're not doing anything, then unless you already…" Blaise's voice faded and for a few seconds he looked quite comical, gaping like a fish. "You did, didn't you? _You already slept with Granger?_"

"That's great, Blaise. Really brilliant. Just shout it out, why don't you?" Draco muttered, glancing around to see if anyone had heard. The last thing he needed was for Potter to find an excuse to beat him up. Or try to romance him. Whatever went through that confused mind of his.

Gay jokes about Potter would _never_ get old.

Then he froze. Not two bookcases over, Theo was standing with his back to them, evidently perusing a book. Only, he couldn't not have heard the unsubtle outburst and he was standing very, very still.

Draco tried to imagine being in Theo's shoes right then and felt sick to his stomach. He kicked Blaise, who was still too stunned to even react to the pain. "Now you've done it!" he hissed, nodding towards Theo.

Blaise slowly blinked and then looked up, also paling slightly. "Well, it only matters if you've _actually_...." His voice trailed off at Draco's look. "I was just surprised," he muttered, looking down.

Draco didn't reply but instead watched Theo, who stood without moving for a few more seconds before slowly and carefully putting the book back on its shelf and stiffly walking away.

"Did you really?" Blaise asked again.

Draco let out an annoyed growl and ran a hand over his face. "Yes, damn it. Would you just stop talking about it?"

"No! This is huge! When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?" Blaise put on his wounded puppy face, which Draco was sure did wonders with the females.

Fortunately, he was immune.

"Could you lower your voice!" he hissed. "It wasn't that big a deal and it wasn't any of your business!"

Blaise obliged on the lower voice but little else. "We're _friends_... friends are supposed to tell each other things! Do you have a _thing_ now?"

"No."

"So..." Blaise seemed to be digesting this slowly. "You had a one off and then she dumped you?"

Draco scowled, not liking the way Blaise put it. "We'd have to be together for her to dump me."

Blaise shot Draco a look that clearly told him where to shove his semantics.

"Who says I didn't dump her?" Draco insisted.

Blaise snorted.

"Ok, fine." Draco threw up his hands. Maybe the truth would get rid of Blaise sooner. "She's made it quite clear she's finished with me. So what?"

"Shallow bitch," Blaise muttered.

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you! And would you stop calling her names?"

Blaise did a hand wave. "But now you have another advantage."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, I thought sleeping with her was the ultimate goal?"

"If I said that, I lied. Which is likely, by the way. But now you're her First. The First always has a special status."

Draco winced. He had to get rid of that misconception before Blaise went out of hand, but doing so did feel oddly like over-sharing Hermione's personal business. "I'm not."

That seemed to give Blaise pause. "You're _not_? Please tell me it's not Theo?"

Draco shook his head. He was happy about that as well. "No."

"Then who?"

"I don't know." It felt embarrassing to admit and that annoyed Draco. She hadn't felt like telling him and that stuff was _personal_, so who was Blaise to demand to know?

Blaise looked like he didn't understand, which... probably meant he didn't. "You didn't ask?"

Blaise would have a field day if Draco admitted that he'd asked but hadn't gotten an answer. "It doesn't concern me and it _certainly_ doesn't concern you!" he said instead.

"So it could be anyone? Someone she sees every day? Maybe one of her friends?" Blaise truly was single-minded at times.

"Thanks for reminding me of the possibilities."

Blaise still looked perplexed. "Well... at least you had one night."

Draco nodded. "Yeah... at least that."

But even though he didn't want Blaise's scheming, Draco already knew that he just couldn't be satisfied with the way things currently were.

* * *

The relief from being absolved of all guilt from _that_ night continued to make Hermione almost dizzy with relief. She'd been so _worried_ and then he'd just… lied about having feelings.

Ok, she didn't really like that he was that kind of liar, but still! Now that she didn't have the burden of worrying about what kind of unresolved emotion might be between Draco and herself after they had had sex, she was now free to... to....

Frankly, she wasn't sure to what exactly.

To not fret about what it meant but just remember how _good_ it had felt?

To very, very secretly lament that it couldn't happen again?

In spite of her disappointment in Draco as a person for telling such lies—she really did need to remember she was dealing with a Slytherin—it was a very heavy burden that had been lifted from her shoulders.

She'd actually thought she'd done a good job of acting normal after finding out, until Harry had pointed out that she seemed to be in a considerably better mood lately. Ron had said she even seemed giddy. Apparently acting wasn't her forte.

But why shouldn't she be giddy? She had been right, after all. There had been a lot of sparks between her and Draco. A lot of... _friction_. Oh, yes. Definitely friction.

She was a big fan of friction.

Ok, time to stop thinking about the fun side-effects of friction. She was on a mission!

Although, if she weren't so afraid of other complications, she would certainly have explored that friction a little more.

Back to the mission!

She flipped the pages of her book, murmuring to herself. This was no good, no good at all. She could find no less than five recipes that matched what she was going for. Three of them lacked description of color, which was, to be honest, quite shoddy for a potion recipe book, and the other two would be easily sorted if she could just remember how it had smelled.

The smell? All she knew was it had tasted like _yuck_ and she'd brushed her teeth immediately after swallowing it.

Unfortunately, it seemed like they might all taste like _yuck_.

"Are you my official stalker now?" she asked the darkness, shaking her head.

There was a vague rustle. "Restricted section?" Draco asked as he was coming out of the shadows. "So that's where you spend your nights. You naughty girl!"

"Nothing naughty about it," Hermione replied, not quite knowing whether to scowl, roll her eyes or laugh.

He glanced at her book as he sat down. "Contraceptives? I think that falls into the realm of premeditated naughtiness."

Hermione felt her face heat and protectively moved her book away from his curious eyes. "It's none of your business."

He looked as if he wanted to ask her about it but then shrugged. "You don't want to brew your own anyway."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah? Why not?"

"It should say so in the introduction or something, but a contraceptive potion is only as good as you make it, so the only way to get perfect protection is to brew a perfect potion. It's tricky to do and hard to tell the difference."

"How do _you_ know about this?"

He grinned at her, and she had the strangest... _reaction_. "Did you not notice the company I keep?" he asked. "If there were ever someone that had to become an expert of contraceptives, it's Blaise. I just happened to be around a lot."

"Right," Hermione muttered. "Then where'd I get it?"

His grin faded until he was just looking thoughtfully at her. "What do you need it for?" He apparently hadn't been able to refrain from asking any longer.

Hermione didn't feel like replying. "Technically, it's none of your business."

"Technically, I don't have to tell you where you can get it."

She narrowed her eyes at him but had to concede he was right. "It's for a friend."

He rolled his eyes and began to rise. "Nice talking to you, Granger."

"No, wait!" She impatiently motioned for him to sit back down. "It really _is_ for a friend!"

"Really?" he asked, looking very skeptical and slowly sitting back down. "What friend?"

"Ginny Weasley."

"And why can Weasley not get her own potions?"

"She can! I—" She blushed again. What a nuisance. "I just... I borrowed some from her and I want to replace it so that people don't... know."

A slow smile spread across his features. "You took one... that night?"

Hermione grimaced both with embarrassment at him bringing that up and the recollection of the foul taste. "Of course I did, you prat. Someone had to be responsible. You weren't exactly thinking with your head."

The smile widened into another one of those grins. "It wasn't necessary, but I appreciate the thought."

"What do you mean it wasn't necessary?"

Now he was the one to grimace. "I can't.... Let's just say my father made sure I'd have no bastards. Like his father did before him and _his_ father before him."

"Oh." Hermione frowned. "Neat. I think. It's not permanent, I gather from that."

His smile looked bitter. "No, it's lifted when I marry. Of course, if I don't marry the right kind of witch, I'll lose the Malfoy inheritance instead."

"Ah," Hermione said with a slow nod. "The 'right' kind being pureblood and from a good family."

"Exactly," he said with another tight smile.

There was a brief strained silence.

"Still," he said, making a flourish with his hand. "Considering that you didn't know about my, ah, inexperience either, it offers other kinds of protections that are pretty good to have. And the pink one... did you get the pink one?"

"No. Mine was clear." She eyed him suspiciously, grateful that they weren't talking about who it was suitable for him to be with anymore. That just cemented her decision to not let anymore friction happen. "What's in the pink one?"

"Didn't think so," he murmured, looking a bit too much like he, too, was remembering her in his bed. "You should try it, though. I hear it's good. It has, um, enhancers."

She stared at him. "An aphrodisiac? You think I need an aphrodisiac?"

"No," he said, his voice a little hoarser. "I think you'd _enjoy_ it."

Hermione's mouth suddenly dried out. "I, um, thanks but... just replenishing these for Ginny." She decided to look down at the book again before she did something stupid like blush or, worse, flirt.

"When did you borrow it, anyway?" he asked, seemingly not noticing how flustered she became. "Did you swing by her dormitory before coming down to me? And... you've taken more than one?"

"I, ah, no. I had gotten them before. She gave me three. You know, just in case. I need to replace two of them."

"When did this happen?" He was looking honestly curious and maybe also a little apprehensive.

She shrugged and studied her nails, avoiding his eyes. "I was seeing Theo at the time."

She didn't have to look at him to know just how that affected him. Her relationship with Theo was a sore spot with him whether he liked to admit it or not. It wasn't terribly odd that it was. Even if he ultimately wasn't in love with her, this whole thing was messed up. Damn all these hormones and entanglements.

"You didn't, though," he muttered. "Tell me you never... I mean, you could if you wanted to, of course, but...."

"I wouldn't sleep with him and then you," she said, feeling rather indignant. "Don't you think things are bad enough as they are? I wouldn't do _that_."

He looked relieved. "Of course not," he said. "Forget I asked."

He really thought she would sleep with both of them? She certainly hadn't always made the perfect choices, but she'd known that as soon as she went to bed with one of them, the other one would be off-limits. She already felt bad for what she'd done to their friendship; she didn't need to make it _worse_. Ideally, she would have walked away from both of them, but... _friction_.

And, frankly, she had hardly set out to _ruin_ anything. It should be up to themselves to decide whether something was worth ruining their friendship over or not. Blaming the third party never made sense.

Of course, coming from the third party, that argument hardly carried any weight.

Draco leaned forwards on his elbows. "This still begs the question, though... Shouldn't you be prepared so you won't have to borrow from your friends next time?"

"I, uh...." Hermione had to look away from him again to gather her thoughts. The way he was looking at her was rather distracting. "There won't be a next time. I think I can manage staying at school another three months without seeking another sexual encounter."

Another slow smile. "Or you could always go for a sterile wizard who is guaranteed not to have picked something nasty up from other witches."

Or that.

Hermione swallowed. Why was she even casually considering this? Did she never learn?

Possibly, it was just the application of the learning that she failed at.

_Not good_.

* * *

**Hermione made another face. "I get it," she said. "No way around the shady sex shop. I just don't know how I'll do it without my friends finding out."**

**Draco shrugged. "I'll do it."**

**Her eyes widened and she looked almost grateful. "You will?"**

**He grinned wolfishly. "For a kiss, I will."**

**He watched her struggle with that, while wondering what had happened to his resolve not to harass her.**


	82. Chapter 82

**I have no A/N. Too tired. Just recycle one of my old A/Ns in your mind. Any one will do although I'm fairly sure I'm not pregnant again.**  


* * *

Draco shifted lightly in his chair. Being alone with Hermione in the dark, talking about contraceptives, knowing that if he reached for her and she by some miracle didn't object, they could do whatever they liked without risking getting caught, was... arousing seemed too mild a word.

Taking Hermione in the Restricted Section seemed strangely appropriate. He doubted she'd allow it, though. It was a pity. It would have been good. It would have been better than good.

Even if he had just gotten an ugly reminder of her time with Theo. He felt a little silly for asking if she'd slept with Theo, considering that Theo had already said they hadn't, but you just never _knew_ with someone as fond of mind-fucking as Theo.

He was amazed that she hadn't called him on his jealousy. But then again, she sometimes seemed to think that if she could only ignore his feelings, then they weren't real. In some backwards way, this was a good thing. As long as she didn't think he was in love with her, she didn't panic and withdraw. Never had a blank face come in this handy.

She didn't seem to mind terribly that he'd sought her out, though. He wanted to kiss her just for that. He couldn't stay away for too long at a time—he was a glutton for punishment like that—and it really was appreciated that she didn't just tell him to sod off. Yet.

In return, he wouldn't reach for her, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't want her to feel harassed in these moments of almost-truce. Maybe if she could begin to trust him, she could also begin to like him. If she could like him… anything would be possible.

"So, you need a clear contraceptive potion. Which kind exactly?" he asked, studying his own sleeve, because looking at her right now was a bit too much. Apparently, his hands weren't quite aware that reaching for her wasn't an option.

Hermione made an annoyed sound. "I don't know! All I know is that it was clear and thick and sticky and tasted _really_ yucky, and I wish I'd known I didn't have to swallow it."

He smiled to himself. Apart from the obvious innuendo she had just innocently delivered, the knowledge alone that she'd suffered one of those potions to have sex with him made his whole damn week. No, make that his month! "It sounds like the generic kind. Cheap, foul, does its job. You can get that in Hogsmeade, no problem."

"Yeah, where?" She seemed eager, almost excited to know.

Well, it _was_ an interesting shop.

"You take a turn down by the Hog's Head and then you really can't miss it."

"What's it called?"

He told her. And then he watched as her face screwed up.

"Is that a reference to--?"

"Yeah."

"Classy." She made another grimace.

"Look, they sell sexual aids to use with a partner or on your own. I don't think you can expect a whole lot from the name. Or the clientele. But the potions are fine."

Hermione still looked displeased. "I was expecting something a bit more like a pharmacy."

"Well, that's not what you'll get in a place like Hogsmeade. Maybe in London you can, if you feel up to asking the shop assistant to get it from the back for you while the little old witches stare at you."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust again. "Shouldn't safe sex be encouraged more than this?"

He didn't quite understand her surprise. Sex wasn't usually that heavily discussed anywhere unless you were talking about heirs or Blaise. Hell, even talking _to_ Blaise, he usually refused to go into any greater detail. "It's not a big deal. I think everyone I know has been to a shop like that at least once."

Hermione made another face. She was so cute when she was being childish. "I get it," she said. "No way around the shady sex shop. I just don't know how I'll do it without my friends finding out."

Draco shrugged. "I'll do it."

Her eyes widened and she looked almost grateful. "You will?"

He grinned wolfishly. "For a kiss, I will."

He watched her struggle with that, while wondering what had happened to his resolve not to harass her.

Well, this wasn't harassing exactly. He would do her one favor if she would give him one kiss. It seemed a perfectly fair trade to him. She could just say no and go to the shop herself, couldn't she? He was just supplying options.

Besides, how was he supposed to resist her when she was cute and making very sexy innuendo without even realizing it?

"_One_ kiss?" she asked, looking suspicious.

He nodded. "That's what I said."

"What kind?"

He groaned and rested his head on his forearms. "Three weeks ago we slept together and now I want to do you a turn for one single kiss and you want to know what _kind_?" He slowly lifted his head to give her a mournful look. "You're killing me."

She had the decency to blush again. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "It's just... No, you know what? I'm not sorry. You're always trying to trick me."

"No trick," he softly promised.

"Right. I'll take your word for that." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

He put his hands up, affecting innocence with the open motion. "How would I be able to trick you with this?"

"I don't know." She folded her arms, pointedly closing off. "Why would you even want a kiss if you aren't up to any tricks?"

Wasn't that obvious? "So maybe I'm still hoping we can have sex again... that's not a trick and it's only an admission of lust."

"It can't happen again," she quietly said.

"I know." He even knew that given how he felt, having sex with her again was nothing but a nail for his own coffin. It didn't stop him from wanting it, though.

"So why even bother?"

"Why not? Who's getting hurt from it? I'm not forcing you; I'm only proposing a trade here."

She still looked wary. He took that as a good sign. It meant that she was afraid of what might happen. She wouldn't be afraid if she were in perfect control of her reactions, right?

Personally, he wouldn't mind having sex with her right now on this table, but he doubted she'd let it come to that.

More was the pity.

"All right," she finally said. "One simple kiss and then you make the detour to get the contraceptive potions I described when we're in Hogsmeade."

"See, was that so hard?" he asked, barely suppressing a grin as she shot him an annoyed look.

"How much are the potions?" she asked.

"How much?" He was momentarily confused.

"Yeah, you seem to know so much, so what do they cost?"

"Oh." Draco shrugged. "I don't know. I've never known anyone that would use that cheap crap."

"Charming." Hermione frowned. "I guess I can reimburse you after."

"There'll hardly be a need."

"Trust me. There _will_ be a need."

The look in Hermione's eyes clearly told Draco she wasn't about to owe him anything. Normally that would have been a smart move but he wasn't keeping score anymore. She wanted those foul potions, so he would get them for her. That was really all there was to it.

"We'll talk about it later," he said, hoping to pacify her for now.

"You'll buy them and remember the prices," she coolly instructed. "Of two _regular_ potions. Not pink or blue or green—"

"How did you know about the green one?"

She ignored him. "—But just two clear standard ones. If it's too much to ask that you remember, then get a receipt. Ok?"

"When exactly _did_ you use the other one?" he asked, not promising anything. It would probably be a galleon or less. Why would she never accept anything from him? He bitterly recalled the box in his room containing one particular bracelet and one particular ring that he had given to her before Christmas. She hadn't even wanted to keep those.

But she'd taken a necklace from Theo.

True, she'd ultimately slept with Draco, but Draco just couldn't help but hate the fact that she _liked_ Theo better. Not to mention the fact that Theo could have been the one to sleep with her if he hadn't turned her down out of jealousy.

"None of your business, Malfoy," Hermione was saying.

It figured. Why tell him when she could drive him mad with jealousy and not knowing?

He got up and circled the table to her. She jumped to her feet, not giving him the pleasure of dragging her from her chair. He would have loved to drag her up, to roughly pull her to him and to kiss her until she forgot that she didn't like him and kissed him back like she had done three weeks ago.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then stood completely still, slowly opening her eyes again. He stopped up, a bit puzzled, some of his heat evaporating, as he considered the possibility that she might be fortifying herself because she really couldn't stand his touch.

No, that was ridiculous. Exactly twenty days ago—not that he was counting—_she_ had come to _him_. You didn't just go from having amazing, mind-blowing sex to cringing at someone's touch. Sure, the whole love-thing had put her off, but he'd taken that back. It shouldn't influence how she felt about him.

She couldn't be disgusted with him.

She just couldn't.

* * *

Hermione took a deep calming breath to soothe her frazzled nerves. It was just a kiss. She could kiss him. She'd done it before! She waited for him to close the distance, but when he didn't, she snapped, "What are you waiting for?"

Draco blinked but obligingly moved towards her. "Is it really that bad?" he softly asked. "Doesn't it make you feel at least a little good to be wanted?"

Yes, it was that bad. Yes, it felt good. It felt too good. Sometimes she felt like she could almost forget....

"Could you just please do it?" she asked.

He nodded, but didn't seem as enthusiastic as before. What did he expect? That she pretend she wanted this? She didn't. She wanted him to leave her alone and stop muddling up her head with his half-hearted advances.

He stopped in front of her. "Close your eyes, then," he brusquely said.

She did as she was told and braced herself for the onslaught.

There was the soft pressure of his lips against hers. She waited for the pressure to increase, but it didn't. After a couple of seconds, she jerked back in confusion and opened her eyes.

"Stand still," he hoarsely commanded, following her. "I wasn't done."

Still feeling confused, she did as he asked and he kissed her again, just as softly. What was this? His lips brushed over hers in a way that made her want to run away again, but now he'd placed a hand on her lower back and, besides, she didn't want to seem like a coward.

Oh, she _knew_ she'd been right to ask him what kind of kiss he wanted. This may not have been the trickery she had been wary of, but it was bad enough.

* * *

Hermione's back was rigid and Draco could feel the discomfort and tension in her. She didn't like doing it this way, he knew, but what did it matter when she wasn't really going to like anything he did? He just wanted to try what it would feel like to kiss her like it mattered. So he tried to imagine how a kiss that told her how he felt about her would take place.

It was all right, but he imagined it would be better if she'd loosen up a bit. That way he might not feel so raw and exposed. Or pathetic.

He lifted his head. "Would you mind at least pretending that you don't hate it?" he asked, figuring he might as well be blunt with her.

"You got your kiss," she pointed out, avoiding his eyes. "So I don't think it really matters."

"No, I didn't," he muttered, lowering his head to breathe in her ear. He could feel her discomfort again when he did that, but he felt like punishing her a bit. Plus he could enjoy her warmth and scent this way. "You didn't kiss me," he elaborated. "You just stood there, barely reacting. Was I supposed to enjoy that?"

"Fine," she replied, also keeping her voice low, but squirming a little away from him. "I see your point about the kiss, but for the record, I don't recall 'enjoyment' being part of the deal."

He shook his head, deciding it was futile to use earth logic on her, and kissed her again. This time her lips softened under his and she leaned into him, albeit a bit hesitantly.

It said something about him that this was enough to have his need for her skyrocket.

He fought to keep the kiss sweet and gentle, because it was what he wanted, damn it, but she must have sensed the change in him. She grabbed hold of his neck, pressed up against him and opened her mouth, inviting him in. Seemed she'd rather risk being overtaken by hormones than let him continue kissing her softly.

How was he supposed to resist? Without even realizing what he was doing, he had deepened the kiss and lifted her onto the table, settling between her legs. Oh, he knew she would stop him, but the key was _when_ she would stop him and he was taking what he could get.

Right now, he seemed to be able to get quite a bit.

She let him take that step in between her legs and let him lean over her without making the least fuss. She even wrapped her legs around him. She also allowed his hand to go from her thigh up to her breast without pushing him away or in any way rejecting him. Merlin, her softness felt good. She pushed her body against his, running her hands down his back, and he couldn't quite stifle a moan. Three weeks of fantasizing about their night together and now he was putty in her hands.

She decided to end it by pushing lightly at him, when he was kissing his way down her neck to her collarbone. "That's enough, Draco," she said with a slightly shaky voice. "You got your kiss."

Mm, but what a kiss! He was beyond ready to beg for more, but managed to control his urges. Instead he forced himself to ignore his body and smile at her. It was a shaky smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Sure you don't want me to get a pink potion for you while I'm there?"

He supposed the look she shot him meant that he wasn't allowed to get the pink potion. Too bad. But then again, she really didn't seem to need it. He still affected her. He smirked, loving that knowledge.

* * *

**Theo must have sensed her uneasiness, which, granted, wouldn't take a lot of perceptiveness, because he said, "Relax. Nothing will happen."**

**Hermione frowned. That was oddly dismissive of her fears. "You can't know that."**

**"No, I can't," he said. "But the Dark Lord isn't stupid. This is a trap."**

**She wrinkled her nose, trying to see Theo's logic. "Hogsmeade weekend is a trap?"**


	83. Chapter 83

**I'm on holiday. Have been for almost 2 weeks and have another week to go. Am only even posting this chapter because someone I REALLY LIKE was desperately bored. ;P**

**There is no real nice way to say this, so I won't bother mincing words. Whenever I post, my muse dies for a while. I don't think I have to get into why. NOT posting for a few weeks has gotten me further in writing than I got for months where I pushed myself to update more regularly. Betas and friends tell me to completely STOP posting until I finish writing the fic so that it won't matter anymore, and I am considering it. I won't do so without further notice, though, but don't expect the pace of my posting to pick up just yet.**

**Also, Kupo is _almost_ crawling.**

* * *

It was Friday the thirteenth of March. Hermione wasn't really superstitious, but she had decided to hide out in her office all day just the same. After what she'd let Malfoy do the night before, she _really_ didn't need to tempt fate.

She honestly didn't know what she'd been thinking to allow him to kiss her like that.

Or, rather, she did. The gentle kissing had made her uncomfortable, so she had encouraged a more physical approach. It hadn't gotten out of hand exactly, but it had been very obvious that he wouldn't stop unless she told him to.

And she almost hadn't.

It wasn't even that she had let it go that far—she'd still had all of her clothes on at least—but she'd been _this_ close to just 'forgetting' to push him away. That would have been the height of uselessness. Yes, sleeping with him felt good. No, it didn't have to mean anything.

But then where would it all end?

She didn't want her friends to find out. It would be too hard to explain to Ron why she found it a good idea to have repeated casual sexual encounters with Draco Malfoy. Besides, if you kept sleeping with the same highly unsuitable partner, you were bound to end up with _some_ kind of emotional mess.

"I didn't think you would be here today." Theo's voice interrupted Hermione's train of thoughts. It was a good interruption, though, because that train was definitely headed for a crash.

She still cringed inwardly, however. She hadn't gotten used to being around him yet and she would have hid somewhere else—although certainly not in the library—if she had known he would come here tonight. "Likewise," she muttered.

"That a problem?" he calmly asked, walking over to his desk.

Maybe Hermione was imagining things, but the unflappable Theodore Nott's whole posture seemed rigid, as if he was _forcing_ himself to do as he normally would.

"No, not at all," she replied, glancing uncertainly at him. "In fact, I could use your help with—"

"I'm busy."

"Oh." Hermione frowned. Theo didn't usually just cut her off like that.

"Leave it on my desk and I'll look at it later."

"No… that's all right. I'll just… go with what I have."

They both fell quiet and he was practically ignoring her even though she was openly staring at him. Why suddenly this? They'd been almost back to ok after the break-up and now… this. She was just about to ask him that when he cut her off again.

"I don't want to talk about it. It can't be changed. Sating your curiosity won't do anything for _me_."

"Oh." Hermione felt rather stupid for not having anything else to say. "Um, sorry?"

Theo glanced at her and then sighed, his shoulders sagging a little. "Yeah. I know."

Really? Because Hermione sure didn't.

"Do you know how come we're even going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" she tried diverting. "I asked Professor McGonagall and she just looked shifty and gave me a speech on an attempt at normalcy. Isn't it too dangerous to go even with Aurors looking after us after… after last time."

She couldn't keep back a small shudder. Last time, a polyjuiced Lucius Malfoy had spotted her wearing the bracelet and had knocked her out while trying to get Draco to come with him. Good times! She'd rather not try _that _again.

Even if they had tightened security and the Aurors were now going to be in pairs keeping an eye on each other, Hermione saw no reason that Death Eaters couldn't make it back into Hogsmeade or possibly even the school. They had the means. They were smart. They were cunning. They were _evil_.

She was a little bit scared.

Theo must have sensed her uneasiness, which, granted, wouldn't take a lot of perceptiveness, because he said, "Relax. Nothing will happen."

Hermione frowned. That was oddly dismissive of her fears. "You can't know that."

"No, I can't," he said. "But the Dark Lord isn't stupid. This is a trap."

She wrinkled her nose, trying to see Theo's logic. "Hogsmeade weekend is a trap?"

"Yes. It's a desperate and morally dubious attempt to draw some of the Dark Lord's followers out using all of us—especially Potter, Malfoy and Dumbledore himself, I suppose—as bait. The Dark Lord will almost certainly ignore it in an attempt to make Dumbledore even more desperate. I think even Dumbledore must know that." Theo frowned. "Maybe that's why he's taking the risk. Could be that he's setting up another trap that the Dark Lord will then more easily fall into."

"Could you perhaps please stop calling him _the Dark Lord_?" Hermione muttered.

Theo actually looked embarrassed. "Oh. Yeah. Of course. Habit."

Hermione decided to let the way to address Voldemort go. It probably just _was_ habit, considering who he usually hung around with. Malfoy, especially, had been very enthusiastic in his worship of the wizard that would rid them all of the impure and inferior.

Remembering Malfoy's earlier agendas was like a punch to the gut. She quickly decided to push it to the back of her mind. It didn't matter. Even if it should matter—which it shouldn't, because there was no reason for it to matter—it wasn't an issue anymore. At least not as far as she could tell.

If that wasn't an indecipherable knot of thoughts, she didn't know what was.

"If this is all true, shouldn't Harry and Dra—Malfoy know about it?" she asked, trying to get back on track.

Theo gave Hermione a strange look she couldn't quite decipher before looking away and replying. "Maybe they were deemed to make better bait if they didn't know about it. Don't worry, though. I'm sure they'll be watched by half the Aurors there."

Now wasn't that a thought. Draco being watched by a dozen or more Aurors while buying those contraceptive potions for her.

She tried to figure out whether it would be better if he didn't know about it or funnier if he did.

Certainly, she wouldn't be the one to tell him anything.

* * *

Draco picked up a tiny sculpture of what seemed to be a very ambitious sexual act and studied it for a second. "Really classy," he muttered, before putting it back down.

The shopkeeper had perked up at the prospect of galleons and was coming forward. "If you cast a simple spell on it, it comes alive and—"

Draco held up his hand. "Not interested. I'll just have a couple of… those." He pointed at the cheap clear contraceptives in the potions display. It figured that this crap would be all a Weasley would have, really.

The shopkeeper glanced at the potions and then back at him. "You sure about that, young master? It will hardly put any witch in the mood to drink that. What about the blue one? It tastes almost minty. Or the pink? That one has the added effect of—"

"No, thank you," Draco interrupted again. He would love to have gotten some better ones for Hermione, but since she'd told him in no uncertain terms that this was _just_ to restock, and that he was under no circumstance to buy anything that he intended for her to use because then she would hex off his bits… he'd better not. The potions wouldn't really be of much use to him without his bits, after all.

"Right." The shopkeeper looked rather disappointed as he no doubt decided that Draco was being cheap.

Draco hardly cared what the owner of some trashy shop in the middle of nowhere thought of him, so he just paid for his goods and turned to leave.

Unfortunately, that was when Blaise chose to enter with Tracey Davis trailing closely behind. Draco inwardly cringed, but outwardly he just smirked. "A bit of an odd place for a date, isn't it, Zabini?" he calmly asked.

Blaise looked genuinely surprised to see him there, but quickly recovered. "Well, didn't really have much chance to go _before_ my date and, as you know, any _good_ date requires this shop's services…."

Draco snorted. "Right. Forgot about that."

"So, Malfoy," Davis said in a low and sweet voice. "Buying yourself a new girlfriend now? I knew it was only a matter of time before you realized that was the only way for you to go."

Blaise had a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like he was choking on laughter. Git.

In retaliation, Draco pasted on a friendly smile and said, "Remember, Tracey; it's the pink potion that makes it worth your while."

It had the desired effect. Blaise scowled at the implication that he couldn't do it for his girl without adding an aphrodisiac, while Tracey blushed and looked away, looking as though she might cry. Interesting response, really, but Draco really couldn't care less about how she was mixed up and why. He decided this was the cue for him to leave the store.

He hadn't gone far before he heard steps behind him. "Wait!"

_Davis? _Draco frowned and turned around. "What?"

"It was your idea," she said.

"I didn't tell you to sleep with him."

"I…" She sighed and threw up her hands. "Why not? It's not like it makes a difference."

"Stop being a whore charging _me_ by the hour and just date him like a regular person! You know, without anyone paying you to do so!" Ok, so she wasn't exactly charging him by the hour but he _was_ paying her as per their deal for her to 'give Blaise a chance'. It wasn't chances she was giving him, though, by the looks of things.

Tracey swallowed and looked away again. "I can't, Malfoy. You wouldn't understand."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You're right about that. I _don't_ understand why it's so much more attractive to whore yourself out. You could probably eventually get him to marry you and then hope his mother sees the business end of her own poisons and makes you unbelievably wealthy."

"He _hurt_ me!" Tracey hissed. "I don't think you can even imagine what it's like to adore someone more than anything else and think that they at least like and want you too and then to walk in on them saying they have nothing but contempt for everything you are!"

"He didn't mean it. Get over it."

"No, that's just it! He meant it. He always meant it. He just didn't consider that it was also _me_ he had that contempt for. We look an awful lot like the rest of you, especially in the dark. I know he's sorry he hurt me and he has feelings for me, but…."

"Congratulations! It's what you wanted!"

"I was stupid back then! He's not going to stay with me forever. Once he realizes that it's time to make heirs, he will remember that I'm inferior again. I always knew it wasn't forever, but I never counted on letting him hurt me more than once!"

Draco felt like his head would explode. "I'm not having this conversation. You should be having this conversation with _him_. But then again, that might fix things and who would want _that_, right?"

She shook her head. "I tried to explain things to him, but he wouldn't listen. Of course he doesn't think he'll do any of that _now_."

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. If you can't trust him, stop leading him on, Davis."

Tracey looked almost shocked. "You know, you're right," she surprised him by saying. "But… I'm not sure I can handle…" Her voice faded away and she was looking quite pathetic. "This way I at least know not to get my hopes up and it'll end on its own."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, because it won't still hurt when it ends. Look, I don't care, really. Go cry on someone else's shoulder."

He quickly walked away before she could share more things with him that he didn't want or _care_ to know.

People were so stupid sometimes.

* * *

"You sure you don't want some fudge?" Ron half-heartedly asked Hermione.

"That stuff will give you cavities. Or make you fat," she pointed out.

Ron looked down his own lanky figure as they were leaving Honeydukes. "Um, right," he very diplomatically said. "I _am_ actually feeling rather pudgy today." He nodded sagely to himself, but never stopped eating his sweets.

Hermione giggled before she could stop herself. "Well, we can't all be you. Besides, there's still the cavities."

"I brush and teeth are, as you know, easily fixed. You worry too much."

Hermione decided to change the subject since Ron was rather resistant to her health lectures. "Did Harry tell you why he wasn't joining us?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah… he said he might join us at the Three Broomsticks later, but for now he's with Ginny, trying to work stuff out. I think he's done being a git. If he's not, she'll give him the slip and start dating someone else if I know my sister right."

"Oh. Hmh." Hermione didn't know what else to say. Didn't anybody know how to date successfully anymore? Maybe successful dating was a myth.

"Can I ask you a question?" Ron asked.

Uh-oh. "Sure." Hermione braced herself.

"How ugly do you think I am?"

She stopped in the middle of the street and stared at him. "What?"

He shrugged. "No need to put on a show. How bad is it?"

She blinked. Then she blinked again. And again. She knew she must look stupid, but of all the questions Ron could have asked her…. "I don't think you're ugly."

He snorted. "Right. Look, I know you love me—as a friend and all that—but I'm not looking for reassurance here."

Realization hit Hermione. "It's _her_, isn't it? She said something?"

He shrugged again. "So what if she did?"

"You can't go around changing yourself just because some witch calls you names, Ron."

He crossed his arms, looking defiant. "_You_ did! Don't think I didn't notice what you did with your hair."

Hermione gaped. "I didn't do anything with my hair!"

"Yeah, you did. It looks softer now."

She blushed even though she didn't want to. She wasn't guilty, damn it! "That wasn't for anyone! Ginny convinced me at some point that washing it differently would make it easier to deal with. It's hardly a makeover!"

"Yeah, because a certain someone never made digs about your hair in the past."

"It's still the same!" Hermione huffed. Really! It was just one of those everyday things, hardly even worth mentioning. In fact, Ron was the only one that had noticed anything different at all.

That _certain someone_ certainly hadn't noticed. And she didn't care if he did. So there.

"It's subtle, I'll give you that," Ron continued, "but I'll bet you anything that if given Veritaserum, you wouldn't be able to deny that you want him to find you attractive. Especially considering how upset you got when he said you _weren't_ attractive. Wasn't that only about a month ago?"

Hermione cringed. Harry sure didn't like keeping things to himself. "You're taking things out of context. He said a lot more than that and I _didn't_ change anything for him."

"Of course you didn't."

"Exactly! I didn't! Because I don't care and it would be wrong to do so even if I _did_ care."

"Now you're just arguing."

"I'm not just—!" Hermione gritted her teeth. "It doesn't matter. The _point_ is that if she can't accept you for who you are, then she's not worth the effort."

"That's not something for you to decide, Hermione. I decide how far I want to go," Ron quietly stated.

He was right, Hermione realized. But that didn't mean she agreed that he _should_ go to those lengths. "Will it even matter to her?" she asked, fairly certain she knew the answer.

Ron hesitated. "No, I reckon it won't. But I have to do something."

"I don't understand your taste in girls anyway," Hermione muttered. "Why her?"

He shrugged looking almost bashful. "I just think there's more to her."

"She calls you names!"

"Yeah, I know. She thinks I'm ugly and stupid and a loser without any funds or future. The only thing I have going for me is my pure blood and that's nullified because I'm a blood traitor."

"And yet you fancy her." It was a dry statement rather than a question. Hermione _really_ didn't understand.

Ron looked down at his sweets and then packed them away as if he'd lost his taste for them. "I don't expect you to understand. I certainly don't expect you to approve. But do you think you could ask that git about her? Give me some sort of hint as to what she wants in a bloke?" He made a face as if the request was painful to him. It probably was, considering he'd more or less just asked her to ask Draco Malfoy for help with his love life.

That he was willing to go to such lengths gave Hermione pause. "You're… you're really going to try to win her over? Actively?"

"Don't worry, Hermione. I'll probably fall flat on my face like I usually do but… like I said, I have to do _something_. I can't just sit by and watch another girl move past me, barely noticing my existence."

"What do you mean, 'another gi—'?"

"Save it, Hermione," Ron interrupted. "You know what I meant. No reason to have _that_ discussion. But could you just please use your influence with Malfoy for some actual good?"

Hermione looked up. No, the sky hadn't turned green. Maybe Hell had frozen over.

* * *

**Hermione turned back, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Wait, _you_ wrote Pansy poetry?"**

**Draco didn't deign to answer but merely pursed his lips. "The real question is, will your buffoonish Weasley manage to do it well enough to catch her fancy?"**

**"No," Hermione said with a grin he really didn't like. "I do think the _real_ question is whether you wrote her any."**


	84. Chapter 84

**Voilá. The magic number will be 103. That includes a one-chapter epilogue. Yes, I know the love for epilogues runs rampant in this fandom, but I guess you'll have to live with it. ;)  
**

**I am not putting this on a schedule yet as I've yet to _not_ be sick in this new year. Roughly one update a week is all I can attempt to give you.**

**If you forgot what's going on, please skim back a bit on your own. Too much exposition in this random chapter would ruin the overall feel.  
**

* * *

Draco made a very mature face as he turned the corner onto Hogsmeade's main road. Why Hermione insisted on socializing with that freckled loser of a Weasley was beyond him. But she did and she currently was. And she looked to be having a rather serious conversation with him too. She looked sympathetic.

So _that_ was how she looked when she sympathized? Huh.

She looked up, spotted him, and her expression changed to dismay. Yeah, that was more like what he knew. Add a bit of disgust and it would really make his day. Why was she even dismayed? He wasn't staring at her or anything. He'd only looked at them for a second and was now carefully minding his own business.

A quick glance back at Hermione and her Weasley Charity Event—yes, Draco had deemed her friendship with Weasley to be just that—told him that she was coming his way, though. Grand. He couldn't wait to hear what she had to say.

"Hey," she said as she reached him. "So, um, did you get the potions?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. She was asking about _that_ in public? "Yeah, do you need them now?" He glanced back at Weasley and swore to himself that she wouldn't be getting the contraceptive potions until he was reasonably sure she wasn't going to _use_ them.

"No!" She raised her hands as if to stop him. Good! "No…" She looked around nervously. "Later, all right? I just, uh, have to ask you something."

"Then ask." He honestly _was_ really curious as to what could make her come over to him in full view of one of her friends. Especially with the way she was fidgeting.

"You know, your ex? Perhaps you could, um, tell me something about her."

"Depends. Which one and what do you need to know?"

"Oh! Um, Pansy, and what does she, uh, like? Generally, I mean. Romantically."

Draco stared. Hermione blushed and squirmed. "You swinging that way now, Granger?" he asked, feeling more than a little perplexed at the inquiry.

"It's not for me…."

She glanced back at Weasley and he followed her look. "No way!"

"Could you please just answer?" She was getting defensive. Interesting.

He laughed. "Tell him to forget it. There's no way she'll ever even look twice at a wanker like him. It's a good one, though. I'll have to tell her."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. Too bad her cloak hid most of the fun. "Can't you just _answer_ and let _her_ decide?"

He shrugged. "Why go through all that trouble? The answer will always be no."

"So, you're saying he's not good enough for her?" Hermione asked in an ominous voice.

Good thing he wasn't fazed easily. "Exactly."

"He was good enough for me!" Hermione angrily tossed her hair back. "But then again, that probably doesn't matter, does it? We're good enough to play with and make fun of but that's it, right? Never mind. He'll get over it." She spun around and began walking away.

Uh-oh. Somehow she'd managed to twist the whole thing around and make it personal. Now he couldn't just let her go.

Pansy would never forgive him for what he was about to do. Damn it!

"What's in it for me?" he asked, making Hermione stop and hesitate. But she didn't turn back.

"What do you want?"

"A kiss."

She slowly turned back. "I can't promise you anything, but I can ask him if he'd be willing."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not Poofy Potter, you know. From you."

Her gaze flickered. She was uncomfortable with kissing him again, it seemed. Too bad. Pansy was his oldest friend and if he was supposed to sell her out, it had better be _good_.

"Ok," she finally said. "But it had better be good."

He smirked at the echo of his own thoughts. "It's always good."

She made a face at him that was as mature as the one he'd made when seeing her with Weasley. "I meant the information."

"It's not going to make a difference."

"Just tell me."

"Kiss first."

Hermione sighed irritably. "I can't just go off with you right now. I promise you'll get it later."

"No. Kiss first. Right here; right now."

Her eyes widened as she understood the implications. They were on the main road. A fair amount of people were around and anyone would be able to see them. And then there were the Aurors, a great many of which had been staring at him all day. If he wasn't mistaken, she even knew some of those people fairly well.

"If this is a way to bother Ron…"

"That's just a bonus. This is a way to bother _you_ for asking me this." And a way to get her to kiss him. Publicly. He wasn't really sure how he felt about that himself, but that wasn't as important as making her agree to it.

"Don't you have a reputation to uphold or something?" she muttered.

He couldn't help the laugh. "Nothing's left of that, Granger. It's gone. It would take more work than it's worth to get it back. Besides, it's rather narcissistic of you to think that anyone would care. I'm fairly sure only Weasley would. Maybe Potter too if he's around."

"Forget it. It's not going to happen."

"Fine, then Weasley loses his best shot with Pansy. Be sure to let him know why."

"Do you honestly think Ron would _want_ me to kiss you?"

"No, but I wonder what he'd say if he knew that you'd sleep with me just because you wanted to, but you won't even kiss me to help him out."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest again and smirked cynically. "Maybe he'd say sleeping with you wasn't worth my time, then?"

Ouch. She sure knew where to aim to make it sting. "Good one. Now run along and tell him he can't have her."

He'd only half-turned when she spoke again. "You sure are possessive of your _ex_-girlfriend."

If only she were speaking out of jealousy and not just trying to goad him. Highly unlikely, though. "I had some very simple conditions for helping you out, Granger. But if you must know, the thought of Pansy being with Weasley does make me sick. I hope it never happens."

"It's none of your concern whether it happens."

"It's none of yours either, yet here you are. And why is that, Granger? Are you being a good friend, or are you feeling guilty for not wanting Weasley for yourself after everything the two of you have been through together?"

"You're such an arse, Malfoy."

He smiled to himself at her petulant look. "Yeah, but you're still going to do it."

"What makes you think that?"

"You're still here, arguing. You can't stand the thought that your precious Weasley might not get a shot with his fantasy of the week, so you're actually going to lower yourself, aren't you?"

She scowled at him. "Very astute. Let's just do this."

"I don't know if I want to anymore, what with you being so offensive and all." He carefully studied his nails.

She snorted. "You want to."

He did. Very much. It took much more than this to put him off. "How astute of _you_."

"I don't need to be astute to know that."

"Then kiss me!"

To his great surprise, she did. He was so stunned that for a second he didn't even react. The very idea that she would just step closer to him, put her hands on his shoulders and _kiss_ him was so foreign it only very slowly registered that, yes, she had just done that.

And then he noticed the softness of her lips against his, the way her arms slowly snaked around his neck, how her body was molding to his at the mere suggestion of pressure from his hand on her waist.

In a very short time she was doing a very good job of driving him very much out of his mind with very little effort.

Then her arms weren't around his neck anymore and she was gently pushing him away and turning her head to break the kiss. "Enough, you got what you wanted," she murmured.

But he wanted so much more!

She was blushing. At first he didn't quite understand, but then his brain functions returned and he remembered that this had been embarrassing for her. It should probably have embarrassed him as well but he simply didn't care anymore. He wanted her.

He had to remember that this had been a trade, however. He cleared his throat. "Pansy doesn't like to be chased. If he's currently doing that, he should stop."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're not being obvious there at all, Malfoy."

Draco shook his head. "I'm serious! I'm not saying he should be completely indifferent, but he'd have to put down the bait and walk away, hoping she'll bite. If he follows her around with big puppy-dog eyes, he already lost."

"Is that what you did?"

"I was trying to get her attention for ages, then I gave up and she chased me down. Eventually she admitted that my initial neediness had put her off."

"Oh. How… modern of her." Hermione frowned. "Thanks." She turned away.

"As for bait, she likes pretty things and _expensive_ things," Draco continued at her back. "But since Weasley is hardly going to manage to give her either of that… she's also a romantic."

"A romantic?" Hermione was looking more than a little skeptical.

"Yeah. She likes gestures. Flowers. Notes. Poetry. Moonlight picnics. That sort of thing."

Hermione turned back, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Wait, _you_ wrote Pansy poetry?"

Draco didn't deign to answer but merely pursed his lips. "The real question is, will your buffoonish Weasley manage to do it well enough to catch her fancy?"

"No," Hermione said with a grin he really didn't like. "I do think the _real_ question is whether you wrote her any."

"Hey, I helped you out, didn't I?" he indignantly asked.

Her grin widened. "You're not going to answer this, are you?"

"Not on your life!"

Normally, he would feel either panic or annoyance at this kind of onslaught, but right now Draco was too busy being mesmerized by Hermione's smile—not to mention surprised that she was even teasing him like this—to care.

Selling out Pansy had definitely been worth it.

* * *

Ron was scowling when Hermione made it back. "What the hell was that all about?" he demanded.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I did as you asked?"

"I do not recall asking you to…" Ron looked slightly sick, "flirt and to _kiss_ him and…." He broke off to gag with what didn't even look like affected disgust.

Hermione felt her spine stiffen with annoyance. "For your information, he was very much _against_ helping you out and this was the only way to get him to cooperate. But if you don't want to hear what I found out, then fine, I won't tell you."

"You didn't have to tell him it was for me, you know," he muttered.

"And what would I have said? 'Hi, I was randomly wondering how to charm your ex for no particular reason at all'? Besides, he figured it was you all on his own. What with you standing there and all."

"All right, all right!" Ron grimaced. "I appreciate your… sacrifice."

"No, you don't." She crossed her arms and pouted a little.

He snorted. "Well, it didn't look exactly like a sacrifice either, what with you smiling and laughing at him like that."

Hermione ignored her burning cheeks and stuck her nose in the air. "That was simply a reaction to a mention of _poetry_!"

That seemed to stop Ron short and he blanched. "Poetry? Good God, I really don't stand a chance, do I?"

Hermione reached up to pat his suddenly slumping shoulders. "You never know?" she tried, knowing it was a weak encouragement.

The look he sent her was beyond skeptical. Well, perhaps it was better if he didn't get his hopes up.

Poetry, indeed.

* * *

"See, I told you it would be ok."

Hermione slowly turned towards Theo, who had been the speaker. "You just like sneaking up on people and seeing them jump, don't you?" she asked.

"It's rather gratifying, yes." But he wasn't smiling.

Not that Theo ever smiled. Lately, he seemed much less thrilled to come across her in their office. She knew she'd hurt him on more than one occasion, but there seemed to be something else these past couple of days.

"I didn't see you down in Hogsmeade," she tried with fake cheerfulness.

"That's because I had no reason to go. I heard you had fun, though." His voice was eerily toneless.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, instantly getting what he meant by 'fun'. "Not really."

"I would appreciate not being lied to. You probably think you're sparing me. You're not." Theo went past her to sit down at his desk.

Hermione defensively crossed her arms, embarrassed by the implications. "Yeah, I kissed Malfoy. You know what he's like. Everything's a trade-off. Ron needed—"

"You seem to be deluding yourself," Theo coldly interrupted. "For one thing, Malfoy can't deny you anything at this point and you know it."

Hermione felt a slight twitch at one eye. "And for another?"

Theo sighed, looking rather weary. "For another, you both bloody well keep inventing these games just so you have an excuse to touch each other. Honestly, Granger, at this point, even those of us that violently do _not_ want you to get together are just waiting for the two of you to _grow up_ and move it along."

Hermione's jaw fell open. "W-what?" she sputtered. "I do not—_we_ do not—this is… I can't believe I'm even listening to this!" She turned away in a poor attempt to disguise her flaming cheeks. She had never heard such an absurd statement delivered so bluntly before in her life!

"You slept with him. Unless you've made it a habit to randomly sleep with wizards you can't stand, you have feelings for him."

The feeling of betrayal was swift and merciless as she swirled back to face Theo. "He told you that?" she quietly asked. Somehow it just hadn't occurred to her that Draco might use their night together to hurt Theo and rub it in his face. It was cruel to Theo and degrading to her.

Actually, once she thought of it, it was just the kind of thing Draco would do.

She'd been so stupid.

"No," Theo simply replied. "And that's beside the point, anyway. Why is it so hard to admit that you want him? Is denial really that much easier? What happens when your next boyfriend realizes that it's impossible to stop these games? Or when Malfoy gives up on you and you become jealous of his next girlfriend? He won't wait for you forever, we both know that. Will you seduce him again and make him betray her, too? It's selfish and you know it. Selfish and juvenile. If you truly don't think it can work, then fine. But isn't it time you made a decision either way?"

Shaking her head to clear the webs of confusion, Hermione muttered, "No, I don't… _fancy_… him. I don't want to _be_ with him." She didn't. Honest! "There was just some physical attraction and we worked it out. One time. You weren't supposed to know about it."

"Yeah, from what I heard, you really have it out of your system." The sarcasm was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "It's not _what_ you do, it's _how_ you do it and... I really do hate to say it, but you're certainly not doing it indifferently."

Hermione didn't want to hear this. She really didn't want to hear this. Theo was _wrong_. There was no way in hell that she actually wanted Draco after all the things he'd done—all the things he'd done _to her_. She wasn't a masochist! It was just… stupid.

Theo was wrong.

* * *

**Theo ignored her sarcastic remark. "On the surface, he annoys you. But you don't get off on being annoyed by someone. So, there must be times when he doesn't annoy you. Times where you see him as someone kissable and someone you can—"**

**"Don't say it!"**

**"—relate to. Really, Granger. What did you think I was going to say? Get your mind out of the gutter."**


	85. Chapter 85

**A huge and much overdue thanks to my betas on this story! Margot Le Faye, Maz, Little Dollface, kerri240879, Manda06 and last, but not least, TomFeltonIsKindaHot. Their input is what makes this fic make sense! ;)  
**

**A new D/Hr archive is up! If you haven't yet, check out the Hawthorn & Vine archive at dramione dot org. All my fic is X-posted there, but for administrative reasons, I can't begin reliably updating Bracelet there until March 1st. :)**

**And as a sort of P.S. -- I re-enabled anonymous reviews. However, if you comment anonymously, just remember that I can't respond. You're not missing much, as I suck at responding, but just saying.**

* * *

Theo was wrong.

The ground was shifting under Hermione's feet and she found it safest to fumble her way to her trusty office chair and sit down before scowling at Theo. "Since when do _you_ care so bloody much about whether I like Malfoy or not?"

"I'll be honest," he said, staring pensively over her shoulder. "When I first encouraged Draco, I didn't think he'd get anywhere with you. That's why I did it. To see him fail."

"You did _what_?"

"And I honestly still think that you are out of his league. You're too smart. Too good. Too idealistic. I don't understand it; it's not logical. But I guess you wouldn't be the first person to fancy someone not nearly good enough for them. I don't know if it's because he makes you feel like you're even better or if it's because you don't realize your true potential…."

"Stop!" Hermione raised her hand. "Did you miss the part where I said that _I_ _do not fancy him_?"

"Didn't miss it. Ignored it."

"Oh, that makes it so much better."

Theo ignored her sarcastic remark. "On the surface, he annoys you. But you don't get off on being annoyed by someone. So, there must be times when he doesn't annoy you. Times where you see him as someone kissable and someone you can—"

"Don't say it!"

"—relate to. Really, Granger. What did you think I was going to say? Get your mind out of the gutter."

Hermione would bet anything that Theo had embarrassed her on purpose just now, so she gritted her teeth and refused to cringe. "Honestly," she said instead, "I don't understand why you're preaching to _me_! I know that _his_ attraction to me is only physical. He has _said_ that he doesn't want to be with me, that I'm unsuitable and that he doesn't… have feelings for me. He has _said_ he just wanted to sleep with me. And don't forget that he's a bigoted, _evil_ git. Why would I want more from him?"

Her hands were _not_ shaking. She only clenched them into fists because she was annoyed. And if she was verging on being truly upset, it was only because she was remembering all those nasty things Draco had been saying to make sure she understood that he didn't truly want anything from her—except the sex if it was offered.

Well, it had been offered and taken, and lately he was just playing around with her, seeing how far he could push her. She wasn't even sure that he wanted to sleep with her again. Maybe it was enough for him to let people know that she could be manipulated into kissing him whenever it suited him.

Why did people act as if she should let herself feel more? If she let it be more, then she would be the laughing stock of Hogwarts—if she wasn't already, considering that Theo had _known_. Others might know too!

"Don't believe his lies," Theo softly said.

She _really_ didn't plan to! "I won't."

He shook his head. "Not those lies. The other ones. Don't believe he doesn't want you."

"Ok. I guess I can believe that." That night at the library he _had_ seemed awfully suggestive. And why wouldn't he want more? The sex had been good, and if they did it again, it would be good again. It didn't take a lot of brains to realize that.

Theo looked at her for a long while and then shook his head, sighing. "He's a bloody idiot anyway and I honestly don't really want this to happen, so…." He shrugged and leisurely walked over to his desk to work.

* * *

"Took you long enough to ask for them," Draco was lazily saying.

"Shut up and give them to me."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione. She had waited almost a week to ask for her contraceptive potions and now she was acting as if she was in a hurry to get it over with? She'd barely even spoken to him in all this time. Frankly, he'd missed her.

Of course, she hadn't even come to his room to get them. She had stopped him after class to ask him to get them and meet her in some rarely-used corridor. Apparently, she didn't like being seen with him.

Not that this was terribly surprising.

"Don't I deserve something for my troubles?" he asked.

"Oh! Yes!" She seemed almost startled at the question. "Of course! How much were they?"

He frowned as she was looking for her coin purse. "I didn't mean money!"

"I still have to pay for—"

"No! You don't!"

She blinked and stared at him as if he'd gone mad. He probably had. He just didn't want her money when he'd been doing her a bloody favor. Other shows of gratitude, sure, but not that. It seemed like he might as well forget about any 'shows' today, though. Pity.

"I'm not going to be in your debt, Malfoy," she finally said.

"Just say 'thank you'," he said, barely keeping a sigh from his voice. Damn, but he _had_ missed her.

He wished he hadn't.

"Thank you." She sounded strained. How it must bother her to thank him for anything.

"There, was that so hard?" He deliberately sounded patronizing to annoy her. It was the only way to avoid any awkward moments where he would be _wanting._ Clearly, she wasn't in the mood for his wanting today.

She pressed her lips together in one of those cute frowns. "You could have just taken my money instead of yelling at me."

"I can afford a few sickles."

"It was more than a few sickles."

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Not much. Cheap crap. Fitting for a Weasley."

"Don't start." She apparently wasn't even in the mood for insults. Not much left, then.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Just make sure that your beloved Weasley doesn't try to make Pansy drink anything this low quality."

Hermione's eyes widened innocently in a way that instantly made Draco suspicious. "Oh, so you think she'll actually have sex with him?"

He stared at her and then the image sank in and he screwed up his face. "Oh, now I'll _never_ sleep again!"

"You really are concerned about who your ex-girlfriend ends up with, huh?" Hermione asked with a shake of her head.

"She's more than my ex-girlfriend."

The words had just sort of slipped out, but before he could clarify, her face softened in a way he really didn't like. "Yeah, she is, isn't she?" she asked almost wistfully. "Anyway, thanks."

Draco had the very discouraging feeling that she'd just misunderstood something again. "Pansy's my friend," he quickly said. "She hasn't been happy with me since the whole… but she's still my friend."

"I know," Hermione said, nodding. "Same as Ron is my friend."

"Yeah…" Draco still didn't really think Hermione understood, but trying to explain further would make him look like a ninny. And what was the point, anyway? She seemed to believe whatever she felt like believing, no matter what he said.

"In any case, since we're done here…" Hermione said and then, after what appeared to be a moment's consideration, stomped on his foot. Hard.

He yelped and jumped before he could stop himself. "What the…? Have you gone _insane_?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "How did Theo know we'd slept together?" she very coldly asked.

That was a change of subject if ever he'd heard one. And… _ow_! "He always knows everything, doesn't he?" he tried. A weak defense was better than no defense, right? And he _really_ hoped he was wrong and that wasn't hurt in her eyes. With how little she cared about him, he really couldn't afford to hurt her.

"Oh, please. He has to learn it from somewhere. He didn't learn it from me, ergo…." She made a gesture indicating Draco.

He sighed. This wouldn't go well, would it? "He may have overheard something."

"And just _why _are you running around telling people about… that?"

"I'm not _running around_—"

"My mistake for trusting you in the first place," she interrupted him, apparently not caring for his excuses. "I should have known you were going to use it. Stupid." She was biting her lip and wringing her hands, showing every sign of distress at Draco supposedly spreading rumors about her.

Draco was about to try to defend himself again when he realized it would be pointless. She just wasn't in the mood to listen to him. When she'd worn the bracelet, he had very deliberately spread rumors to make her seem like his personal slut. She would see no reason to believe that he wouldn't do so again now that she'd really slept with him.

She didn't _see_ that he wasn't the same person anymore, and even if she did see some of the changes, she really had no reason to believe that he wouldn't go back to his old self again, did she?

"You never trusted me," he said instead, feeling rather sad. "If you did, you wouldn't be so eager to believe that."

"I went to bed with you, didn't I?" she asked, not looking him in the eye. Her fists clenched and he wondered if she wanted to punch him. In any case, he was probably very lucky that she didn't have an itch to hex him.

"Yeah, but not because you trusted me. You went to bed with me because you wanted the sex badly enough that you just didn't care anymore whether you _could_ trust me. I'm sorry that you regret it now, but that's hardly my fault. I gave you what you asked for and in spite of what you seem to believe, I _didn't_ spread any stories."

He could tell by the way she looked at him before she left that she didn't believe him.

She never believed him. She never _would _believe him. He shouldn't even bother.

He just couldn't seem to stop bothering.

* * *

"What rhymes with 'grateful'?" Ron's brow furrowed as he was battling the piece of paper in front of him.

Hermione had to hand it to him, attempting to write poetry during the evening meal in the Great Hall was pretty brave. Or, possibly, just stupid.

Harry wrinkled his nose, thinking about it. "Hateful?"

Ron looked like he actually considered it. Good grief! This was a disaster waiting to happen.

"Try 'fateful'," Hermione suggested. "At least if you want her to leave your bits intact."

"_Her_?" Harry suddenly perked up. "Wait, this is for your mystery girl?"

Ron shot him a semi-amused look. "No, mate. I've taken up rhyming as a hobby."

Harry made a face. "Let me see!"

He reached for the paper, but Ron was quick to move it away. "Dream on!"

"Friends show friends their rhyming."

"They do not."

"Do too!"

"Hermione!" Ron was looking panicked.

"How old are you two?" she asked. "Twelve?" She shook her head. With nothing but shadows to fight so far this school year, Ron and Harry had taken to acting a lot like, well, _boys_. She couldn't help but wonder how it would have been to have had a normal childhood with them.

"Hey, not fair!" Ron objected. "_He_ was the one to…" His voice trailed off at the look Hermione shot him. "I was just minding my own business," he muttered before sulking.

Harry laughed and Hermione pinned him with a glare, turning his laughter into a coughing fit.

Deciding that she was done being their pseudo-mother for now, Hermione asked, "Where's Ginny?"

Ron made a weak wave with his hand. "She said she needed to write some essay because she got an answer wrong in class."

Harry was still grinning. "Actually, if I recall correctly, she was a bit more colorful than that."

"Yeah, well," Ron muttered, "she's just lucky Mum didn't hear how she referred to her teachers."

"I find it quite refreshing, really," Harry said.

Ron snorted. "Unless it's directed at you. You don't seem that 'refreshed' when she cusses _you_ out. In fact, you didn't seem very 'refreshed' after Hogsmeade!"

Harry shrugged. "I do admit she cussed at me a bit, but the date turned out all right, didn't it? We're good now. If I was in a bad mood, it was due to being stalked by all these… Aurors."

Hermione very carefully focused on her food.

"Come on, mate, you don't _really_ think the Aurors were stalking you?" Ron asked.

Harry pursed his lips. "I went to the loo and two followed me in there. One went into a stall, but there was no… activity… if you know what I mean, and the other one spent five minutes washing his hands. Then when I went back out, they followed and two more were lounging on the other side of the door, talking about whether kumquats are a vegetable or a fruit—why this should be question, I don't know—and trading crocheting patterns."

Ron looked as if he didn't know whether he should laugh or commiserate. "Oh."

"That's only the tip of the iceberg. Everywhere I went there were Aurors under ridiculous pretenses. I'm going to ask Dumbledore about it as soon as I can catch him. So, no. It wasn't your sister that soured my mood. _She_ was an angel."

Ron looked mildly puzzled. "She's a bloody harpy! Having said that, she still is my sister and you'd better be good to her."

Hermione choked on air, coughing and sputtering as she tried very hard not to laugh out loud at that ironical statement. Ginny could be very blunt, but at least she had her heart in the right place. She'd proven her loyalty to her family and friends before. Pansy Parkinson, on the other hand, who Ron fancied, was nothing but a cold, superficial _bitch_, no matter what Ron _or_ Malfoy said. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind who'd win the Harpy of the Year Award.

Harry looked curious and Ron looked resigned, probably knowing why Hermione was having trouble breathing.

"Right," Hermione croaked. "Um, I need to see Ginny about something. Have fun with your… rhyming." She quickly got up and left before Harry could badger her about her odd reaction.

* * *

Finding Ginny wasn't any trouble at all. She was in the Gryffindor common room, angrily muttering to herself as she was jotting something down on a piece of parchment. She seemed to welcome the distraction, though, and was more than willing to follow Hermione to her room to get back the 'things' Hermione had borrowed.

"Why exactly am I getting these _back_?" Ginny asked as Hermione led the way into her room to give Ginny the potions in privacy.

"Since Theo and I broke up there's no point in being 'prepared'. With you getting back with Harry, you'll probably have more use for them," Hermione replied, feeling like that was a reasonable response.

"Right. So you're just going to keep pretending you never slept with Malfoy, then?" Ginny casually said as she went over to Hermione's desk and looked at the books scattered there.

Hermione's mind went blank with shock and she couldn't think of a better response than: "What?"

Ginny shrugged and looked up, pinning Hermione with a look. "You don't have to keep lying to us, you know."

"Ginny, I don't know what he told you—"

"He told me nothing," Ginny interrupted. "Why would Malfoy even _talk_ to me?"

Hermione swallowed. "Theo?"

"No."

"Then who?" How far had it got around?

"I have a brain of my own," Ginny said, looking somewhat annoyed. "I noticed the tell-tale awkwardness. And giving these back to me is just another attempt at covering up, isn't it?"

Busted. But at least not by the rumor mill. "I'm sorry," Hermione said, dropping any pretense. "I just didn't want anyone to know."

"I get that. I really do," Ginny said, squatting down to pet Crookshanks. "But, believe me, these secrets aren't healthy. You just have to let Harry and Ron react to the news and then get over it. Didn't you tell me to do something like that as well?"

She probably had. But that had been different—Ginny had been hiding things from her _boyfriend,_ and the thing with Zabini had been buried in the past and… well, it was always easier to tell _others_ what to do, wasn't it? "You think your experiences with Zabini apply here?" she asked.

Ginny shrugged and strolled over to the bookcase. "I learned something. A secret like this _festers_. And, worse, the taboo of it might lure you back to repeat your mistakes. Not that I did after getting together with Harry, mind you."

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't think you had, and I won't repeat my mistakes."

Although they sure would be worth repeating—from a purely physical perspective, that was. Too bad that it wasn't worth it when it came to her mind and soul, not to mention her self-esteem, self-respect and the respect of her friends.

"You kissed him in Hogsmeade," Ginny pointed out, still casual as ever.

"There was a reason for that!"

Ginny smiled rather cynically. "And there'll be a reason for it next time too, and I'm sure there'll be a really _good_ reason when you sleep with him again."

"What do you want from me, Ginny?" Hermione sighed. She really couldn't have this discussion when she could hardly sort out her own mind.

"Look, it's none of anyone else's business," Ginny said, surprisingly gently. "Do whatever you want. But just be careful. And keep the potions in case you need them." She gave Hermione a genuinely sympathetic look.

"I won't need them," Hermione said.

Ironically, she wouldn't need them whether she did as people seemed to predict or not. It wasn't for her to share the details of Draco's curse, though. She doubted he'd care much for her telling her friends that he was sterile until he married. He probably found that fairly personal.

"Just in case. Better than having the devil's spawn, right?" Ginny gave a wink that Hermione really could have lived without.

After Ginny had left again to finish her essay, Hermione stared at the potions on her desk. Having the devil's spawn. Yeah, no chance of that happening. Ever. No matter what. Since she hardly planned on _marrying_ Malfoy, it was physically impossible.

That was actually sort of a strange thought.

But the real surprise was that she sort of wished she could have more no-spawn-making activities.

* * *

**"The world must be ending," she drily replied.**

**"So, if the world is ending anyway, why are we doing this stupid walking? Why don't we just go up the Astronomy Tower and talk instead?"**

**For a second he thought he'd tempted her, but then her expression became shuttered. "Is this how you usually do your rounds, Malfoy?"**


	86. Chapter 86

**Sending a PM with a question, giving no mail-addy and with PMs deactivated on your end will frustrate Kitty. :S**

**Update is late because Kupo's been sick liekwhoa (and now I have a bad cold... ha... ha... ha...) My first priority isn't fan fiction when my kid AFTER a bad stomach bug gets a cold, pseudocroup, a 40C / 104F fever, and then fluid in his ears. ALL of that in the same damn shortest month of the year. And here I'd been so proud that he hardly ever got sick.  
**

**I don't know about you, but I'm ready for spring.**

**I put a link to Hawthorn & Vine in my bio. Check it out!**

* * *

This was a very boring day, Draco decided, staring at the common room fireplace. Blaise had run off to snog Tracey… for a change. Draco hardly ever saw Blaise on his own anymore and it was annoying him.

Girls weren't supposed to take over your life.

In his boredom, Draco had even gone up to the library to see if there was a Granger to bother. There wasn't. Then he'd gone outside, looking for her. No luck.

He was destined to spend the afternoon alone, it seemed, but… he didn't want to. He wanted to talk to someone. He wanted to stop feeling like he wasn't a _part_ of the people he cared about's lives these days.

He wanted to—

"Sitting around brooding again, Draco?" a soft voice asked as his blonde and most favorite ex sat down next to him.

"I'm not brooding," he objected without any bite to it, "I am merely bored out of my skull."

"Then get a girlfriend," Pansy suggested, perhaps a bit coldly. Ok, so she needed to take the occasional jab at him after how he'd treated her. He could live with that.

"I've had girlfriends," he merely replied. "Apparently, I'm no good at it."

"Practice makes perfect?" She wasn't even looking at him but was rather studying her nails.

"Did you have anyone in mind?" he drily asked.

"As a matter of fact I do," she surprised him by saying. "Astoria Greengrass seemed to be good for you…. Why don't you give her another shot?"

The innocently voiced invasive suggestion had Draco's hackles rising. "No. Forget it."

And here he'd thought he didn't want to be alone. He'd been wrong.

"No, _listen_ to me!" Pansy sharply reprimanded him. "Look at you! You're hardly the Draco any of us knew anymore. At least when you were with her you resembled him. I miss him, even if he could be a git sometimes. I say we bring him back!"

Draco shook his head. "You're insane, Pansy, and that's part of what I _like_ about you, but you might as well give it up. Astoria seemed like a decent sort, but she was not for me."

Pansy sneered. "You fancy yourself in love with _her_, don't you? The effects from the ring and bracelet…." Her voice faltered at the remembered pain of him putting the bracelet on some witch that hadn't even mattered to him at the time. Then she seemed to shake it off as she continued, "It's not _real_, Draco. Besides, what do you expect will happen? Granger will fall in love with you? Your family will welcome her with open arms? Her friends will be accepting of you? You will all bond, and you will live happily ever after? You know that's not realistic. It won't happen."

Draco knew. But, quite honestly, he would be happy if he could just get Hermione to care about him. If her eyes would warm just a little bit when she looked at him, he believed that he could handle never having the rest.

Although 'never' seemed like an awfully long time to not feel whole.

He made himself sick with all this mooning. Pansy was right; he wasn't who he used to be.

He was _really_ counting on getting over this. A few months, maybe a year, should be all the time he'd need to forget her after they all left Hogwarts, right? There would be other witches. Maybe even one that would fall for _him_.

"It's not natural, Draco," Pansy continued. "You are a pureblood, a Slytherin, a _Malfoy_, and she's… unworthy. At least if she'd been more attractive, I would have _some_ understanding—"

"Did you have a point, Pansy?" Draco roughly interrupted. He'd be damned if Hermione wasn't pretty, and he was frankly more than a little disappointed that Pansy of all people couldn't seem to look past the lack of artificial enhancements. Hermione was _real_ in a way that most girls he knew weren't.

"I think Astoria could help you get over her."

"Yeah? Sure you don't want to do the honors yourself?"

He immediately regretted his jab at her when she looked stricken. Great, why _didn't_ he just mock the girl that had stood by him when few others would?

"Pansy, I'm—"

"A complete and utter dick, yes," she cut in.

He didn't have much to say to that since she was just stating the obvious. Also, defending himself might just lead to more fighting and he didn't really want to fight with her.

"I'm completely over you," Pansy then informed him. "I don't plan on ever being with you again. I just can't stand seeing you be this… pathetic excuse for who you once were."

"You certainly know how to make a bloke feel good about himself," he muttered.

"Astoria could make you feel good."

"No." Maybe Astoria _could_ make him feel better for a little while, but then it would just turn into what he'd had with Pansy. A relationship where he waited for her to get over him while she waited for him to realize he had feelings that he never would have. It would never be a _good_ relationship, much less a healthy one.

"Damn it, Draco…"

Draco sighed. Apparently Pansy hadn't learned that lesson. "Just stay out of it, all right?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"Yeah?" His mouth twisted into a cynical smile. "Any more 'help' from you and I'll be forced to bring up the fact that _Ron Weasley_ seems to fancy you."

So maybe he wasn't above poking her a _little_ bit.

Pansy's eyes widened and pink splotches appeared on her cheeks. "What has that little _rodent_ been saying now?"

"Not so little, though, is he? Actually rather tall."

She sniffed. "He has the _brains_ of a tiny rodent."

Again Draco's lips twisted. "Won't argue there." He honestly didn't see what Hermione had once seen in that freckled poster wizard for disaster. Or what she still saw in him that made her so dedicated to their friendship. Draco wouldn't say he was jealous _exactly_, but he really didn't like the bugger and he was glad that at least Pansy didn't seem to fancy him. "So, what's going on?"

"I have _not_ been encouraging him if that's what you think," Pansy was very quick to establish. "He's just… constantly _there_. He refuses to go away. It's… _annoying_." She frowned and muttered something to herself, which Draco could only assume was a less than nice term for Weasley.

He snorted with amusement. "What, he's still doing that?" So the idiot hadn't heeded his advice to give Pansy some space. He was never going to stand a chance this way. Nice!

"Well, I suppose he has been a _little_ less enthusiastic lately," she conceded. "But it's as if he can't stop _looking_ at me."

"Well, you are pretty," Draco said with a shrug.

"I know," she said, sniffing again. "Too pretty for some red-haired pauper _Weasley_."

Out of principle and general Weasley-hate Draco agreed with Pansy's statement, but he was suddenly realizing how shallow her reasons sounded. Furthermore, he'd never even had much better reasons than that for his hatred towards Hermione. It all seemed so incredibly stupid and childish that he could barely even understand it now.

If this was the kind of person Pansy wanted him to revert back to, he'd actually much rather not.

* * *

Hermione frowned at the clock and fiddled with one of the buttons on her shirt. He was late. He was half an hour _late_. She had better things to do than wait around for some tardy git. Maybe she should dock some house points from him—that might teach him a lesson about being on time! Especially since this was _official_ _business_. Just because theirs were unpaid jobs didn't mean they didn't have to take them seriously.

The door opened, and she turned around fully prepared to give him an earful, when she saw it was the wrong person.

"Oh," she said before she could stop herself. _Oh_, what? So Malfoy sometimes used the office, she knew this. It was just a rare occurrence lately, since he hardly spoke to Theo these days. Besides, he didn't usually use the office on the nights she was here. They almost religiously avoided ending up on duty with each other, after all. Random meetings resulting in tension before they each went on their merry way was one thing, being stuck together for hours, having to make conversation, was quite another.

Maybe he'd misread the schedule and hadn't realized that she was due to walk the halls with a _tardy_ sixth year Ravenclaw boy tonight? No matter, she would be leaving the office within minutes.

"Hello, Granger," Malfoy quietly said, closing the door behind himself.

"Hey. Um, did you happen to see Chambers on your way here?"

So maybe she could hardly make it any clearer that she wanted to get out of there. It was just that being around Malfoy sort of forced her to _think_ about… _them_. She didn't want to deal with that. She didn't feel like she had the energy for it. Not tonight.

There seemed to be a brief hesitation as Malfoy leaned against the closed door, but when he spoke, his voice didn't reveal anything. "He's not coming."

She didn't like the sound of that. "What? He suddenly had to go to the Hospital Wing?" Her voice had sharpened and she didn't like that either. She didn't like how she always felt defensive with Malfoy around. Why couldn't he just leave her alone so she wouldn't have to be on her guard all the time?

"No…" Malfoy slowly said, "he had forgotten about an essay he had for tomorrow. I was his last hope."

Hermione crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Ok! She could do this! She could be civil. She could be polite. She could walk next to Malfoy without constantly thinking about how he was spreading tales about her, and how it was her own fault because she'd slept with him knowing that _just sex_ with him—when he'd made it very clear that he didn't actually want more—wouldn't be _just sex_ but rather a powerful weapon in his hands.

She could also manage to not keep blaming herself for thinking he wouldn't use that weapon. She should really be happy that he hadn't used it to try and crush Harry or Ron or herself. Yet. He'd 'only' used it to hurt Theo. Because he could.

But most importantly, she could definitely manage to not wish something would happen again _in spite of_ knowing everything she knew. Having wishes like that made her feel so stupid. Like she was asking for it. Like she deserved his behavior for not being in better control of herself.

"Don't stare at me like that," he muttered, looking a little uncomfortable. "I tried to get someone else, ok? It was impossible with such short notice. And I won't try anything. We'll just walk this round like any other night… ok?"

"It's… it's fine," she said, looking away from him. "It's no problem. We're late, so let's go." She took a deep breath and with purposeful strides she went to the door and, careful not to touch him, opened it and went out into the hall.

She could do this. Being alone with Malfoy late at night didn't have to mean disaster.

* * *

Draco was a liar, but what else was new? He'd actually wanted to come here tonight and when Chambers had mentioned having to do an essay after this, Draco had been quick to offer to come here in his place.

Now, glancing at Hermione's rigid posture as they were—in his opinion pointlessly—wandering the halls, he wondered if it hadn't been a bad idea, after all. He hadn't meant to upset her. She was always avoiding him to some extent, so how was he supposed to know if she really needed her space this time?

The worst part was that he wasn't even entirely sure why she was acting this way. Did she still think that he'd rubbed their night together in Theo's face on purpose? If she did, he could sort of understand why she'd be _mad_, but she didn't really seem mad, more like… hurt? He wasn't sure.

"So, did you start your Potions essay yet?" she politely asked.

They were making casual chit-chat now? "No."

"You should, you know. It's always good to get things done early. It saves you from having to cancel your rounds at the last minute."

"Not if I forgot I had an essay in the first place. Besides, it's not me you should lecture."

"No, I suppose not," she muttered. "But I'm not lecturing you."

"Yeah, you are."

"Why do people always claim that?" She frowned. "I'm just _saying_—"

"But that's just it, Granger. You're telling people what to do because you think you know better. Nobody likes to be told like that."

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again, pressing her lips together in a tight frown. "Fine," she ground out. "I won't do that then."

Draco's lip quirked. "What's the matter, Granger?" he teased, obviously not caring very much about his own health. "Can't take a little critique?"

She seemed to make an effort to relax but remained more stiff than he liked. "No, I guess I can," she said. "But it's not very pleasant, is it? I try to help and get told off for lecturing people."

"I didn't tell you off."

"I meant generally," she murmured. "What do I care if everyone else fails their NEWTs?"

"You care," Draco calmly stated. "But maybe you should check whether your advice is actually wanted or needed first and then _maybe_ be a little less blunt about it?"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "I can't believe that _you_ are telling _me_ how to act!"

Draco grinned. "I know. Surreal, isn't it?"

"The world must be ending," she drily replied.

"So, if the world is ending anyway, why are we doing this stupid walking? Why don't we just go up the Astronomy Tower and talk instead?"

For a second he thought he'd tempted her, but then her expression became shuttered. "Is this how you usually do your rounds, Malfoy?"

"You know it's not."

She shook her head and began walking again. "Don't make me have to report you. If you want to mess about, do it on your own time."

Draco carefully kept his mouth shut as a few expletives ran through his mind. He'd never _not_ done the damn dumb rounds, checking out shadows. He'd never actually wanted to spend time talking, or anything else for that matter, to anyone else he'd been partnered up with. "Never mind," he tightly said, following her.

He'd just really like to know if she honestly didn't realize that he had wanted to go up the Tower with _her_, or if she knew but simply wasn't interested in spending that kind of time with _him_.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**She grimaced again. "I want you to… I mean, I think we should… um… I think this is best solved by… if we should perhaps… sleep together."**

**He didn't even bat an eyelid. "So, when you say _sleep together_…"**

**"Sex, Malfoy," she curtly interrupted. "I mean sex."**


	87. Chapter 87

**Kupo is fine, thanks, no worries. :) Was just saying why the update was posted late. It's Maz's (Kupo's dad, my boyfriend) birthday tomorrow. Congratulations to the best guy ever, who will look after the baby so I can write/post fanfiction!**

**And I am a sad panda. Busted my ass to try and write a fic for the Draco Big Bang, but with Kupo being sick and all, I got delayed and, well, the fic won't be done in time. Still going to try and finish it as quickly as possible and then either post it to the DBB as a late entry or just upload it to some of the archives I link in my profile. (And no, it doesn't take up time I could be working on this fic. This is already written, remember? That is also why I couldn't 'speed it up' even if I wanted to. At most I can fix minor plotholes and issues with characterizations / motivations not showing properly.)**

* * *

Hermione peeked through an open doorway and saw absolutely nothing. The darkness was absolute. It didn't matter, though, because the action was just a way to pretend she didn't notice how Malfoy was sulking.

The Astronomy Tower, indeed. The two of them, undisturbed, under the stars….

No. She couldn't do that. Where had the suggestion come from, anyway? One second he'd basically been telling her that people—including himself—found her well-meaning advice intrusive and annoying and the next…. He'd probably just suggested it because he hated the rounds and wanted to do _something_ else. Not because he wanted to be alone with her. Wouldn't it have been embarrassing to go with him only to realize that he actually hadn't meant anything with the invitation?

She was so confused she almost wanted to cry. She wanted this night to be over.

"Can I ask you something?" he suddenly asked.

She felt like saying no, but curiosity got the better of her and she ended up with a cautious, "What?"

There was a brief silence where he seemed to gather his thoughts. "When you accuse me of spreading stories and whatever else you can think of, is it because you actually believe it or is it just…?"

Still feeling cautious, Hermione didn't feel like answering only half a question. "Just what?"

Again he spent a moment figuring out what words to put together. "Just a way to keep me at a distance?"

_Why would I need you at a distance? _She almost voiced the question, but then realized how loaded it was. She was barely coping as it was, so she'd rather not go there. "I wouldn't accuse you of something if I didn't think you were capable of it," she said instead.

"But I didn't _do_ it!" he exclaimed, stopping up. "I never even mentioned that I'd been with you to anyone! Blaise was just bothering me as usual! I said I didn't need his help, so he drew some conclusions a bit too loudly, and Theo overheard. That's all, I swear." When Hermione didn't respond, he continued, "Why would I want to hurt Theo like that? He's the one that made me Deputy Head Boy and thought I was worth helping—and he called me a friend when hardly _anyone_ else did. I already hurt him far more than I should have by putting the bracelet on you and refusing to take it off after realizing he had feelings for you."

"We should have removed it," Hermione muttered, walking on, afraid to look at Draco when he was being this honest. She didn't need to go there.

* * *

"Yeah…" Draco half-heartedly agreed at Hermione's back. Just imagine all the trouble they could have avoided if he'd never become addicted to her feelings. If he'd never kissed her…. The truth was that he was glad he'd gone through with it. He'd lost one of his best friends and had fallen hopelessly for someone who barely even liked him, but somehow it still felt like it had been worth it. Like he was a better person for it.

"It would have saved _me_ a lot of humiliation and inconvenience, and _you_ a silly short-lived infatuation, a friend and a girlfriend," she said, as if to convince him.

He noticed that her very simplified list didn't include a boyfriend on her end. He wondered whether that was on purpose or just an oversight.

He also wondered whether she actually believed that his 'silly infatuation' had been that short-lived.

"Pansy and I were due for a break-up anyway," he said, keeping his observations to himself. "So you can cross that off the list of casualties."

"Oh."

"But that's beside the point." He took a few long steps, bringing him in front of her, making her almost bump into him. "I did _not_ spread any stories about us," he said as if he didn't notice her stopping so quickly she almost stumbled in order not to walk into him.

In order not to touch him.

"So you say," she warily replied. "It's been duly noted."

"Duly noted is not good enough. Why would I even lie about this?"

"I don't know. To fool me again?" she suggested.

He shook his head, hating that she didn't just believe him. "But following your logic I already achieved my goal. Wouldn't it be better to rub it in your face? Make you suffer?"

She flinched. She honestly thought he would do that? That didn't feel nice. In fact, it felt like a girl he was in love with had just told him she thought he was the lowest of the low. Oh wait, that _did_ just happen.

"Yeah," she muttered, "but not as good as rubbing in my face that I trusted you enough to do it twice."

So that was her fear? Draco _had_ done and said some low things in his life and there were a lot of them that he didn't even regret, but it had never even occurred to him to get intimate with Hermione just to use it to humiliate her.

"Then don't do it again," he quietly said, feeling like he just couldn't win. The thing was, however, that while he did madly want her and had hoped that it could eventually become a possibility that she'd want him again, he could easily live without sleeping with her if he had to. He just wanted to be around her without her being all stiff and suspicious and _hurt_ because she worried what he might do. "Let's just be friends."

He could hardly believe he'd said that last bit. _Friends_. They'd never been friends. She didn't want to be his friend. Hell, he wasn't sure he could rightfully call himself _her_ friend when he wanted so much more.

"Friends?" she incredulously asked, confirming his thoughts.

"Friend_ly_?" he suggested. "I don't know, Granger, just… I'm not as dedicated to hurting you as you seem to think. Not at all, actually. Your caution is all for nothing."

"Just to be sure…" she said, looking a bit confused. "You do realize that friends would be a step _up_, right?"

"Anything would be. But if we agree to be friends, then you won't have to worry, and maybe we could actually act somewhat _normal_ around each other."

"No, see," she said, waving her finger at him. "That's _not_ how it works. I'll be forever trying to figure out your agenda."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It _is_!" She looked frustrated. Good. He wasn't the only one feeling that way, then.

"There is no agenda," he quietly said. It was only a small lie. To want to be around her wasn't really an agenda per se, was it? It was not a _mean_ agenda, in any case.

"But I can't be sure of that, can I?" She began pacing in front of him, obviously thinking hard about this.

"You have to trust me on some level, Granger," Draco sighed. "Otherwise, what are you going to do? Lay awake at night, afraid that I might think up yet another nefarious scheme?"

"I only see one solution," Hermione muttered to herself. "It's insane, but the only way I can _know_. Of course, he might not want to do it…."

"If you're talking about me, I'll do it if it's within reason," Draco offered.

"Oh, I'm sure it's far outside of reason," she assured him. "Let's go to your room."

"What about the rounds?"

She shrugged. "The shadows aren't attacking anyone tonight."

* * *

The trip down to the dungeon wasn't long by any means; it just _felt_ that way. Hermione was nervously walking as fast as she could without running and Malfoy just followed quietly.

He was right that it was exhausting not to trust him, to always expect him to make a turn for the worse. The fact that she still physically wanted him only made it ten times worse. They would have to stay at school together for a couple more months and avoiding him seemed entirely out of the question since they seemed to keep being thrown together. What drove him to want to be around her, she wasn't entirely sure, but lust was _probably_ a factor, even if spite should turn out to be the real reason.

She could really see no other way than what had just occurred to her, but she wasn't sure she could go through with it. It scared her. She would possibly be playing right into his hand.

But then she would _know_ and there would be no way for him to appeal to her anymore. Not physically and _certainly_ not in any other way.

"Are you going to tell me what it is you want me to do now?" he asked as soon as they'd entered his room.

Hermione opened her mouth to try to explain and then grimaced. "It's going to sound stupid."

"Ok. I'll keep an open mind." He looked at her expectantly.

She grimaced again. "I want you to… I mean, I think we should… um… I think this is best solved by… if we should perhaps… sleep together."

He didn't even bat an eyelid. "So, when you say _sleep together_…"

"Sex, Malfoy," she curtly interrupted. "I mean sex."

"And this will solve our problem how?"

He wanted her to explain? He didn't just jump at the chance to have sex? That didn't bode well. Hermione's heart sank. Still, she could hardly run away with her tail between her legs, so she braced herself and said, "Basically, I expect you to show your true colors after that."

"And how do you know I wouldn't just 'fool you' again?" His facial expression was worthy of Theo. That couldn't be a good thing.

She shrugged and looked away. "After two times the count hardly matters and if you were to ridicule me, you'd have to do it before everyone is too immersed in studying for their NEWTs to care. That leaves only little time."

"So why not just wait it out?"

Yes, why not just wait it out? Could it be that maybe she was letting her hormones dictate her course of action? She hesitated.

No, her reasons were sound. Weren't they? Maybe he could be the judge of that. Not that he seemed that enthusiastic. "Because your request for friendship seemed to insinuate that you might be messing with me even after school finishes. I'm not entirely sure what damage you could do then, but I'm sure I'd 'lose sleep' worrying about it."

"So let me get this straight… I have to sleep with you if I want to be friends with you?" His voice was perfectly calm, but she got the feeling that he wasn't liking the suggestion one bit.

Oh, this was _not_ going the way she'd thought, much less hoped, at all. Well, at least she'd learned something; Draco was, indeed, over his lust.

Now, wasn't that embarrassing?

She was more than a little disappointed as well. At least she thought it was disappointment she was feeling. So much for struggling with whether to do this or not. So much for her worries about giving in to him.

He didn't want her at all.

"You don't _have_ to do anything," she said as calmly as was humanly possible in the face of this revelation. "I just thought it would be easier. Of course you shouldn't do anything you don't _want_ to do. I… um, I just wasn't sure that would be a problem. I'm sorry."

She turned away, her vision blurring and her hands shaking. She'd never felt this humiliated in her life. Maybe once or twice in the last year it had come close, but this…. She swallowed. This, he could certainly use to ridicule her with. So, in a way, she had achieved what she'd set out to do, hadn't she?

Only, she'd hoped it would have been done more pleasantly. Kisses and caresses beat humiliating rejection every time.

Quickly, before he noticed that she was actually dumb enough to be close to tears—from her mortification, of course—she reached for the door. She had to get out of there. She had to get to her own safe, warm bed where she could lament the loss of her pride and self-respect.

She had only just opened the door when it slammed shut again. Draco was nowhere near her, so she could only assume that he'd got out his wand and used magic. How overbearing! Couldn't he just have asked her to wait, like a normal person?

"I didn't say no," he said.

Her fists clenched. Either he was an idiot or he was playing with her. Either way, her humiliation combined with his inconsideration already had her well on her way to furious. "Then you might have made an effort to seem more positive about the idea—at least if you wanted to appear like you _weren't_ a sadistic prick!" she scathingly replied without turning around.

"You just told me that you want to sleep with me to prove I'm an arsehole. Was I supposed to jump for joy?"

"Then just say no."

"No, I'm not saying no." Suddenly she could feel him standing closely behind her. "I hate your reasons, but I'm not saying no."

She smiled self-deprecatingly. No, of course he wasn't going to say no. Sex was sex, even if he didn't particularly want her, right? The idea just seemed worse and worse, but at the same time... she wanted to lean back against him and just forget that he was a mean and spiteful git.

The strange and inappropriate urge confused her to no end and she found that, unsurprisingly, it hurt to want someone who showed very little sign of wanting her back.

Good thing it was only physical.

He lowered his head until his lips were brushing her earlobe. "Did you change your mind?" he whispered.

She should. She should walk right out of there and not look back.

"I hate you," she breathed.

His head jerked back as if in surprise and he was quiet for a while. "I see," he finally said, his voice carefully neutral. "I'm sorry that you feel that way."

She slowly turned around, feeling a little satisfaction at the bewilderment in his eyes. "Does that change _your_ mind?"

His eyes became inscrutable, but his jaw was clenched, confirming that her statement bothered him. "No," he finally forced out. "But it does change the rules a bit."

"The rules?" She frowned, momentarily forgetting she resented him. "I wasn't aware we had rules now."

* * *

The pain in Draco's chest was so overpowering that he could swear it was a real physical pain. He knew that she didn't _truly_ hate him, but the words had been spoken and he had a silly urge to make her take them back.

He had to play this carefully, though, or she'd leave. He'd probably been a little too harsh on her after she'd told him her plan, but the thought that she would offer him something he craved so much so _carelessly_ and not think more highly of it than use it as a means to a rather insignificant end… it had made him angry. She didn't have to love him, but if she was offering to sleep with him, couldn't she at least do so because of passion? Because she _wanted_ him?

For a few insane minutes, he had wanted to hurt her, to make her bleed.

Then he'd realized he _had_ hurt her and it hadn't given him any gratification at all. But her retaliation…. Words weren't supposed to carry that kind of power, were they?

"So, what's changed?" she prodded him again.

He blinked. Right. He had to stay focused. "You say you don't trust me," he hoarsely said.

"That's hardly new."

"You want to use this as a test to see if you're right or if I can at least be trusted a little bit, yeah?"

"Yes, very nice recap, Malfoy."

He turned away from her and took the two steps over to his desk where a certain wooden box had been sitting for more than a month now. He knew the exact second she realized what he was reaching for, because her breath hitched.

"No!" she quickly said. "Not on your life! I'm not going there again. Forget it."

He slowly opened the box, looking at the platinum bracelet and ring inside. "I'll let you choose. It doesn't matter which one you wear."

"_Choose_? I'm not wearing either of those things again. They're _dangerous_."

"Just for the night," he whispered. "It's the only way for your little test to actually make sense. So, what'll it be, Granger? Will you command me at the expense of knowing _exactly_ what I'm feeling, or will you let me command you while having no secrets of your own? Either way, tomorrow you should have no excuse not to trust me anymore… unless, of course, you're right about me."

* * *

**She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You're so annoying that I can't guarantee anything."**

**"I didn't ask for guarantees," he softly said, letting the ring fall into his palm and handing it to her.**

**She didn't take it but just stared at it as if it were a poisonous insect and then reached out and grabbed the bracelet from the box instead. "I'll take this if I _have_ to wear something."**

**What? This made no sense! He opened his mouth to inquire and managed to utter a very intelligent, "Huh?"**


	88. Chapter 88

**Told you that updates wouldn't be exactly reliable just yet. I am a grown person with responsibilities plus Kupo and I have been taking turns being sick--sometimes overlapping--for months now. Latest verdict is strep for the both of us. I update when I can.**

**That being said, I know this chapter is a bit of a tease and, eh, sorry 'bout that. It happens from time to time.  
**

**Other news: If you have translated or want to translate any of my fics into another language, please go to my bio and click my homepage button. There's an important post up concerning you.**

**Also, the new Draco/Hermione archive Hawthorn & Vine is still awesome! BUT it has been having some DNS issues. If it has given you problems (you couldn't load it) and you gave up on it, please try again (there's a link in my bio). If it's still giving you problems, you can send me an e-mail and I'll direct you to the people that will help you! Thank you!**

* * *

Hermione shook her head and, then, to make sure Draco understood that she was really serious, she shook it again. "No. No way. I'm not wearing either of those. The whole _point_ is that I _don't trust you_!"

"Yeah, I got that," he replied. "And you wanted me to show my true colors, you said. Well, this will force them out in the open, won't it?"

Hermione swallowed. It wasn't that she didn't think he was _right_, it was just that she didn't think it was _necessary_ to go to such lengths. That jewelry scared her. It had the power to turn hate into a romantic obsession, even turning the master into some lovesick slave. It could also override your emotions by forcing you to feel what _had_ to be an enhanced version of the other person's feelings. And wearing the ring had given her the unwanted power to unwittingly torture him when she got angry that one time. She shook her head again.

"That's not fair, Hermione," he said, coming closer with the open box. "I'm willing to take part in your whole little 'test', and you're not even willing to actually make it reliable."

"It'll be reliable enough," she muttered.

"No, it won't. If this is to be your condition for even trusting me a little bit, then wear one of them."

"Or you won't do it?"

He smirked, but it seemed half-hearted. "I'll sleep with you, you know that. But as a test, it will mean nothing. If you just want an excuse to sleep with me, then by all means say so and we'll get started."

* * *

Draco knew the bracelet and the ring scared Hermione. He knew she feared the loss of control that could happen on both ends. That didn't make him relent, though. No, if she insisted on her dumb test, then she would wear one of them.

But if she actually just wanted another night in his bed and could admit it… he'd be more than happy to oblige. Hell, if she'd said "I want you" instead of this, he'd actually truly have been _happy_ to oblige. Right now he was mostly just unable to turn her down. The thought of being close to her again… he craved it so badly it was almost ridiculous.

To his great disappointment, she reached out to touch the scrollwork on the bracelet, tracing it with a finger. It seemed she really was going to bed with him just to test him. Why else wouldn't she just say she wanted him when she was so obviously scared of the jewelry?

But he still wasn't saying no. If she was willing, then it was not up to him to judge whether her reasons were the right ones.

Yes, he was making excuses. So what? This hadn't been his idea!

"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," he said. "But then again, I could be lying."

It wasn't really nice of him to not even try to reassure her, but if she wasn't going to believe him anyway, then why bother?

She bit her lip, momentarily completely distracting him as he thought about ways to make her enjoy his kisses in spite of herself. "I don't know," she then muttered. "Things could get out of hand."

"Does it matter?" he asked, carefully taking the ring between two fingers and holding it up, lowering the arm that held the box. "The worst that can happen if you wear this is that you're overcome with lust, yeah? I don't see the problem with that if you already plan to sleep with me…." Oh, God, he wanted that to happen so badly. Even if it were only a reflection of his own lust, he wanted her squirming under him. What would be the harm, anyway? She had already consented. This would make her _enjoy_ it. He would enjoy the fantasy too.

"That's not the worst that's happened with that thing," she murmured, looking away.

At first Draco didn't know what she was talking about, but then he recalled. "Oh, you mean the torture thing?"

She gaped at him. "Yeah, the 'torture thing'. You're awfully cavalier about experiencing _intense pain_."

He shrugged. He was honestly getting used to hurting around her. It barely registered anymore. "It only happened because you wanted to hurt me and didn't realize you _would_. It won't happen again if you don't want it to. And if you want it to, there's no reason to act all horrified about it." A very low risk of a little pain was worth it if he could make her want him just for the night.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You're so annoying that I can't guarantee anything."

"I didn't ask for guarantees," he softly said, letting the ring fall into his palm and handing it to her.

She didn't take it but just stared at it as if it were a poisonous insect and then reached out and grabbed the bracelet from the box instead. "I'll take this if I _have_ to wear something."

What? This made no sense! He opened his mouth to inquire and managed to utter a very intelligent, "Huh?"

She closed the bracelet around her wrist, looking as if it were a manacle rather than a beautiful piece of jewelry she was putting on. "I'd rather wear this. You said I could choose."

"Yeah, but…." He looked down at the ring. "Wouldn't you rather be the one in charge? And wouldn't it be easier to have your '_test_' if you can feel my emotions and responses to whatever you say or do?"

"Feeling that won't do a thing. You can fake it. I don't want to feel you faking it, so keep the link closed on your end."

"_What_?" He stared incredulously at her. Just what exactly did she expect him to fake?

She shot him an unimpressed look. "You said it yourself, remember? You led me to believe you lusted after some girl by looking at her and thinking of something else. I certainly know that you are fairly competent at compartmentalizing your emotions and drawing on them whenever you need to—Harry even told me that you're skilled at Occlumency, for crying out loud."

Draco's lips tightened. Why must _everything_ come back to bite him in the arse at the most inopportune moments? "He said that, did he? I guess you have me all figured out, then."

She snorted. "Don't try that with me."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm not interested in misleading you?" He was really just trying to manipulate her to play into his fantasy… but _she_ was the one that had suggested the sex! Why shouldn't he get the most from it?

"That's not the premise of the test," she coolly informed him. "The premise is that I believe you _do_ want to mislead me and then rub my nose in it."

"Right. How could I forget?" he drily asked and then, figuring her mind was made up, he set down the box and slipped the ring onto his own finger.

* * *

Hermione watched the clasp on her bracelet disappear and suddenly, as if on cue, nervousness set in. He had the power. He could make her do anything he wanted and there was no way out until he _let_ her out. There was no contract this time, and no… no safe word, so to speak.

She'd been insane to agree to this. Nervously, she twisted the bracelet round and round and checked just how far down she could push it. Seemed like she'd have to cut off her thumb to get it off. Worth considering, really….

Draco looked slightly dazed for a second, but then he slowly grinned. "Well, isn't this exciting?"

She gulped. Maybe it was time to find a hacksaw.

"They say fear is an aphrodisiac… do you reckon it's true?" he muttered, stepping up to her.

"It's adrenaline," she replied. "Not fear as such. Anything causing adrenaline will do."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Granger, did anyone ever tell you that you have a tendency to over-rationalize?"

She felt her cheeks heat a little. Apparently, she wasn't very good at seduction. "I'm not afraid," she said instead, slightly turning her head away. "A little apprehensive, perhaps, but not afraid."

He took a step back and smirked. "Then you must trust me after all. Just a little bit."

"I trust that you don't want to go to Azkaban," she replied.

His eyes narrowed. "Take off your shirt."

Hermione's hands went to her buttons to do as they were told. She didn't bother trying to stop them, considering it was a direct order. "Is that the best you can do?" she taunted.

It had begun.

She had some difficulties wrapping her mind around what was about to happen, but did her best to hide it. She just hoped he'd allow her _some_ time to adapt.

Draco just shook his head, slowly smiling. "You don't get to set the pace." He slowly caressed the bare skin above her bra, creating some very interesting tingles. "Unless, of course, you just want me that badly."

He must not be meaning it as a question, because Hermione felt no compulsion to answer truthfully and for that she was grateful. Her shirt slid to the floor. "I don't know," she purred. "Do you want me to?" She needed to feel like she was just a little bit in control. Getting him to look at her in that greedy way was just part of it. As long as she could, in fact, somewhat control the pace, she felt less nervous about what he might do to her.

He shook his head again. "You have to be the most confusing witch I've ever known," he hoarsely said. "And I've known a few that made little sense."

She stepped up to him, put her arms around his neck and murmured in his ear, "But did you have the power to make them please you however you wanted…?"

He shivered. "Stop talking!" he commanded.

She was now effectively gagged but gave him a slow sultry smile. She didn't need a ring to know that her words had affected him.

He smirked again. "You know, I do like it when you have to obey me. Only thing is… why didn't you wear a skirt tonight? I would have liked that even better." He gave her trousers a mournful look.

"I had to do rounds," she reminded him in reply to the question that ungagged her before she truly had any fun with non-verbal communication. "The castle is rather cold and drafty, especially at night."

Draco sighed. "Why do you always have to be so sensible? You know, Pansy would have frozen her arse off just to look good."

Being compared to Pansy and coming out the loser—just the thing Hermione wanted tonight of all nights! Narrowing her eyes, she got out her wand and cast a relatively simple spell.

Draco's eyes widened in appreciation as he let his eyes roam down her body. "Of course," he breathed. "I just never really needed to know that particular transfiguration."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. No, _really_? He never had to do an emergency change from trousers to a skirt? Who would have thought! She'd bet Pansy had this spell down pat. There really was no reason to _freeze one's arse off_ if nobody even saw, after all.

"Make it shorter!" he demanded and then smirked deviously. "If you're cold, I'll take care of it."

Hermione rolled her eyes yet again and shrunk the length of her skirt to the middle of her thighs.

"Good…" he muttered, stepping closer and sliding his hands down her sides until they reached the hem of her newly transfigured skirt. "Now say please," he said with a mischievous smile.

"Please," she echoed. Hey, she'd said it, hadn't she?

"Don't ruin it," he softly chided, slipping his hands under her skirt and settling them just below her bottom. "You know what I want. Now say it right."

"Please…" she breathed. His hands were warm and… nice. In fact, suddenly, she was _very_ aware that they were standing close and his hands were on her naked skin, and that the two of them were going to actually… stop talking. An excited flutter began in her stomach. He was going to kiss her and touch her again, just like last time. She wanted that so badly it was almost embarrassing, even without….

She suddenly realized that he was just looking at her and she closed her eyes, her cheeks heating again. Of course. He was curious about how it made her feel to have him touch her, so he was examining the feedback he got through the ring.

This was awkward.

"This will only work if you let it go," he murmured, while rubbing tiny little circles high on the back of her thighs with his thumbs and nuzzling her ear. She could feel his hot breath grazing her neck.

She shivered and knew that right now Draco didn't need to wear a ring in order to tell that she had gooseflesh all over. Literally, _all_ over. She helplessly tried to cross her arms over her bra-covered chest, but a sharp sound from him clearly told her not to and she dropped her arms again, placing them on his waist as she didn't know what else to do with them. He seemed to approve of that.

"Let what go?" she whispered, afraid that if she tried to raise her voice she'd find she had none.

"The fact that I feel you," he said. "You can't hold back just because you're afraid I'll know you like it. I already know you like my touch right now. I won't think it means anything."

Hermione nodded. That made sense. "Wouldn't you be embarrassed too?"

He shrugged very slightly. "Probably. But you already know I want you. Anything more than that would just be… a compliment, yeah?"

She nodded again. "Right. And a testament to how randy you were."

He chuckled. "Is that some roundabout way of telling me you're just responding because you're randy?"

She opened her mouth to reply to that, but he swiftly turned his head and captured her lips, effectively keeping anything but a surprised whimper from escaping.

She really hadn't been prepared for this kiss at all. Her guards were down and she stumbled, only just managing to right herself before she fell against him, and… _Oh!_ Had his lips felt this good against hers the other times as well? She didn't get a lot of time to examine exactly how it felt now, however, because as suddenly as the kiss had started, his tongue darted out to stroke hers in just one soft motion and his hands moved up to caress her now strangely hyper-sensitive behind.

The feelings it invoked almost left her in shock. It was pure need and an overwhelming urge to pull him closer and make him snog her for the next hour.

He broke the kiss as quickly as he'd started it and laughed, sounding almost surprised. "You really do want me!"

That put a damper on it.

"No!" he quickly said. "Don't. Didn't mean it like that."

She sighed. "And you were _just_ doing so well!"

He flashed her a quirky smile. "I was, wasn't I?"

She scowled back but didn't deign to reply.

"Don't worry," he muttered, running his hands up her hips to caress her sides. "It'll be good."

Yes, that was what she both hoped and feared.

* * *

**"The worst that could happen…" she continued, apparently still being compelled to reply to him, "is that you'll reject me, humiliate me, ruin me, and do it laughing."**

**The statement was so absurd that Draco forgot all about breasts and just stared her in the eyes.**

**"I know…" she said, her cheeks flushing red again. "I know you won't. Really, I do. Sort of. I mean, you don't really seem like you would anymore, do you? But I still fear it. I still remember you laughing and sneering, humiliating me at every turn just out of spite. I know that you're a very competent actor… and I'm afraid that you're only pretending to have changed and are looking for the ultimate way to hurt me. And I can't let you."**


	89. Chapter 89

**I think I've forgotten to mention that there's another round of Dramione Awards going on. Best of 2009. The seconding fase is going on right now, and this will be a fase longer than the actual voting, so _now_ is the time to go read. Also, there are only a limited number of stories that can move on to the next round, so the _number_ of seconds for each story is very important. (Note: This is not relevant to this story as it was begun in December '07 and will be finished in '10, but I do have a couple of other nominations up. Still, as usual, be fair and honest. There should be a link to the Awards up at my bio.)**

**Oh, and Kupo is finally walking unaided. A few steps at a time, but he's practicing.**

* * *

Draco hid a frown at the conflicting emotions he was getting from Hermione. She did seem to enjoy and even want his touch, which surprised him and made him positively elated, but she didn't seem to _want_ to want and enjoy it, which… just served to remind him that this was purely physical to her.

He didn't mind, he reminded himself. After all, he got to have her once more. Just once. And with her wearing the bracelet, allowing him access to her feelings, it would be much easier to find a way to make it count.

"Stop staring at me," she quietly said, looking away.

Right. He had to kill off all of this lovesick behavior before it effectively turned her off. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just trying to figure you out." It was a half truth. He certainly hadn't wanted to hear her reply to whether she was only here because she was randy. Some questions really were better left unanswered.

She visibly swallowed and he felt her nervousness increase. Why?

"What's to figure out?" she then murmured, looking up at him from under lowered lashes. "You know what I'm here for."

"I do," he absent-mindedly replied, while wondering why her nervousness now seemed edged with true fear. What was she afraid of? Did she honestly think he could still find it in himself to hurt her? Or reject her? What nonsense!

"Could you perhaps stop focusing so hard on what I feel?" she said, a sharp edge to her words as well as her feelings. Ahh, annoyance. He couldn't help but grin.

"I suppose," he said with a casual shrug. "Maybe you could make an effort to distract me? He did his _very_ best not to ogle too hard when he looked down her body. Tonight it was his. He couldn't wait to touch it, to taste it, to possess it… but he didn't want it to be over with too soon, so he was holding back, hesitating to touch her, because it would be so easy to get greedy and he wanted to draw it out.

She raised an eyebrow at him, rising to the challenge, and then she reached back and unhooked her bra. He made a point of keeping eye contact with her as the garment slid down her arms and to the floor, even as it was killing him to do so.

"My breasts don't interest you?" she softly purred.

She'd never know just how much power her every single word and action held over him. "They do," he confirmed. "But I'm feeling a tad bit overdressed." Not to mention that he was afraid he'd completely lose it if he looked down.

She blushed at that, no doubt thinking he was making fun of her for stripping down while he was still dressed or something. He'd more or less given up on keeping track of her insecurities. They only seemed to apply to him, anyway, because of how he'd acted towards her before. If only he could convince her that he wouldn't deliberately hurt her again, he was sure those insecurities should disappear. Too bad that she wasn't inclined to believe him. He liked it when she wasn't afraid to get what she wanted.

"Help me out here," he muttered, lifting her hands to his shirt buttons.

Her hands were shaking a little, and trying to stay still while she fumbled with his buttons, inadvertently giving him small caresses, was sweet agony. He wanted her in ways that scared him – as they would her if she knew about them – and keeping all of that under a lid was very difficult.

Would that he could just gather her in his arms and make love to her while telling her all about everything she meant to him and how he wanted to be what she needed.

Unfortunately, being what she needed meant _not_ doing that. She didn't need his emotional baggage, much less did she _want_ it.

"Tell me you want me," he hoarsely asked, unable to help himself, when she was done unbuttoning.

"I want you," she readily said.

He knew she was only saying it because she had to, but fortunately that didn't make the words any less true. "Tell me if you'd prefer I not remove the shirt completely." He would understand if she wanted the abomination on his arm to stay hidden.

She shook her head. "Off!"

He was a little surprised but pleased that she seemed able to ignore the Dark Mark so easily. No matter what she claimed, that spoke of a not insignificant amount of trust. He did notice, though, that when he took off the shirt she glanced at the thing and then very conspicuously avoided looking in that direction while feeling some discomfort, but that was only to be expected.

"Tell me… how do you want me?" he demanded, figuring that while having first-hand knowledge of how things felt was _nice_, getting her to be up-front about some things would probably help him give her exactly what she wanted.

"Inside me," she replied without missing a beat. The way she felt almost mortified afterwards led him to believe that it was not what she had wanted to say but the raw truth, compelled out of her.

He had to take a few deep, calming breaths before he could do anything else. This simple statement was quite possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever heard.

_Inside me._ That was where he wanted to be. He shoved his hands in his pockets so she wouldn't know that two simple words had him trembling and said, "But how? If you could have your way, any way you wanted…."

She shook her head, pressing her lips together.

'No'? That was hardly a valid reply. He supposed it meant she didn't want to answer and he hadn't really commanded it. "Tell me!" he urged her. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"I want it to be passionate," she said as if the words were ripped from her lips. "It doesn't have to be fast or hard, but I want it to be… _powerful_."

He couldn't keep back a low moan. Maybe it was time they stopped this little chat before he did something stupid like jump her and finish in thirty seconds. Not even the feel of her embarrassment cooled his need. Possibly because under the embarrassment he felt an answering need in her. These weren't just words, they were truths she hadn't wanted to share with him for some reason.

He finally let his eyes drift downwards to settle on her naked breasts. They were perfect, of course. Perfect for him. He'd known they would be. He'd seen them, touched them, tasted them…. His fists clenched in his pockets.

"The worst that could happen…" she continued, apparently still being compelled to reply to him, "is that you'll reject me, humiliate me, ruin me, and do it laughing."

The statement was so absurd that Draco forgot all about breasts and just stared her in the eyes.

"I know…" she said, her cheeks flushing red again. "I know you won't. Really, I do. Sort of. I mean, you don't really seem like you would anymore, do you? But I still fear it. I still remember you laughing and sneering, humiliating me at every turn just out of spite. I know that you're a very competent actor… and I'm afraid that you're only pretending to have changed and are looking for the ultimate way to hurt me. And I can't let you."

What could he say? 'I'm not going to hurt you if I can help it'? She'd said it herself… she _knew_ it wasn't so, but she was still afraid to be wrong. She was too smart not to be cautious.

He wondered what kind of relationship they could have had if he hadn't been so obsessed with destroying her before. Could they have been real lovers? Maybe more?

Never had he regretted the things he'd done as much as now.

* * *

Hermione squirmed. What a mood killer! She could tell by the way he was looking at her that sex was the farthest thing from his mind. Did he even realize that he'd commanded the answer? It didn't matter; she was getting chilly and she'd rather have his hands on her than delve into her worst case scenario. If it was going to happen, then it was going to happen, but she'd damn well better get some enjoyment out of this first!

"Determination," he muttered, still looking distracted. "What have you decided to do?"

"Have sex," she bluntly replied, not in the least embarrassed this time. She'd said many even more humiliating things in the last five minutes alone. "With you. That is, _if_ we are done dawdling?"

He blinked and then took her body in with a glance. "I don't think I could reject you even if I wanted to. Even if I felt I should."

"I take it that you don't feel you should, then?" Hermione asked, bending down to remove her shoes and socks, perfectly aware of how it looked to him with her topless and bent over.

"No." His voice was slightly strangled. "I think your reasons are rubbish, but they're your reasons, not mine. I don't have the right to tell you what decisions you're allowed to make. And, personally, I just want you in my bed again."

"That's convenient," she said, straightening back up. "You're not responsible for other people's decisions and thus there's no moral repercussions of getting what you want from someone, even if you know they do it for the wrong reasons."

"Do you disagree?"

"In this case? No."

"Good…" he muttered, looking relieved.

He was still wearing all of his clothes waist down while Hermione was down to her transfigured skirt and her knickers.

Well, make that her transfigured skirt. She made a bold move forward and slowly and carefully slipped her knickers down her thighs and then kicked them off.

The way his eyes widened and he stared at the skirt was very encouraging, but he hesitated. "One more thing…" he hoarsely asked. "Who was your first?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "W-what?"

"I know there was someone before me. Who? Do I know him? Was he some Muggle boy? Was he one of your friends? Who? Just… I'm not going to force you to reply. This is not an order. Just tell me whatever you're comfortable with."

"That was years ago, Draco," she softly said.

"I know. I'm not bothered. Just curious." The way he shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced nervously at her somewhat belied his statement. Was he jealous?

Hermione narrowed her eyes, considering. "Blaise Zabini," she then clearly stated.

Draco's eyes popped and his mouth dropped open. It was almost comical. Hermione waited for him to respond to her outrageous claim, but apparently this _was_ his response, because he just kept blindly staring at her.

Finally, she rolled her eyes. "_No_, you dimwit! Like I'd ever let that… _slapper_… near my private bits!"

Draco blinked. "Cor, Hermione, sometimes your vocabulary amazes me."

Hermione snorted at Draco's innocent act, but then took mercy on him as he still looked to be suffering from the after effects of the shock. "I don't know why you even almost believed that! It was _Viktor Krum_. Fourth year!"

Sense seemed to be returning to Draco. "You—oh! That was _so_ not funny!" He scowled.

She couldn't help but laugh at his disgruntlement, but before she could think of a suitable reply, he retaliated by pushing her against the wall and lifting her up, making it only natural to wrap her legs around his waist. His fingers dug into her thighs and her breasts pressed against his chest as he _finally_ kissed her again. She quickly realized that not wearing any knickers in this position felt… naughty.

At a loss as to what else to do with her hands, Hermione threaded her fingers through Draco's hair and pulled his head closer, forcing the kiss to be harder, deeper, more intense. He softly groaned and one of his fingers casually slipped from her thigh and—

A feeling of pure enjoyment slammed into Hermione and she moaned and arched her back, squirming, looking for more of that sensation, feeling frustrated when she found that he'd withdrawn his touch. It took her another second to realize that he'd stiffened and was trembling.

She squirmed a little again, grinding against him, and he groaned and let completely go of her legs, stepping back from her just enough that their essentials didn't touch.

She did not approve and pouted at him for a second until she remembered how overpowering the ring could be. "Are you all right?" she then quietly asked.

"I'm… I'm great. Wonderful, even," he rasped.

She eyed him, noticing how his belly muscles seemed to contract every few seconds and wondered….

He apparently saw the look on her face, because he barked a short laugh. "No," he replied to her unvoiced question. "Just a little too close. I need you to… hold off… if you can, or this'll be over. I can't… if you come… I can't stop…." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if to calm his body.

"Ok," Hermione agreed, knowing it was going to be difficult. It was a powerful feeling to know that if she allowed herself to come, he would come right along with her.

He opened his eyes again and looked her up and down. "I could take it off for a minute," he offered with what looked to be some difficulty. "I think I could manage to stay in control then and we could take the edge off that frustration…."

Hermione fiddled with the hem of her skirt, feeling embarrassed yet again. She'd tried not to show the frustration—forgetting that it wouldn't matter—but of course he'd feel it anyway. "No, it's okay," she muttered.

He'd already taken off the ring, however. He was quiet for a moment, looking disoriented and lost, but then he said, "I need it to last longer. You're close. _Very_ close. I don't want to come even faster this time than I did our first time."

She could see his point, although she failed to not see the appeal of him completely losing control. It wasn't as if she'd be left wanting, after all. Who said it had to take long to be good, anyway?

"Indulge me," he muttered, lifting her back into the position she'd been before and nuzzling her neck. "It'll be good."

"I know," she breathed.

His hands were back gripping the underside of her thighs and if either of them moved, a couple of his fingers would ever so slightly brush against her very sensitive flesh. She had a death-grip on his shoulders and when he teased her by brushing feather-light kisses anywhere but on her mouth, she growled and bit his neck.

It had the desired effect. He kissed her again. It was a hungry and desperate kiss, and she clung to him, grinding against those elusive hands of his, just wanting _more_.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please, Draco…."

"God," he muttered. "Do you have any idea…." He never finished the sentence, but just gave her what she wanted, his fingers no longer avoiding her grinding hips and teasing her, but seeking her out, caressing, stroking, penetrating…. She cried out, but he was quick to smother her sounds with more kisses. "Ssh, Hermione," he whispered. "Someone might hear you."

She didn't care who heard. It felt so good. She squirmed. "More…."

He obliged, touching her quicker and more firmly until finally the pressure inside of her had to give way and she bucked against him, whimpering into his mouth, which was roughly crushing hers.

She could get used to this.

* * *

**Yes, yes, Kitty is mean. Next chapter...**

**"Hermione," he suddenly said, his voice strangely… different. "Say that you love me."**


	90. Chapter 90

**I'm Featured Author for April on Hawthorn & Vine! Huzzah! :D Link to a Q&A session is on my profile. COME ASK ME STUFF! It's a regular party over there. And I answer pretty much any question within, you know, reason. ^^ Or you can go lurk and read what's already been said. :) (Note: The Q&A is on LiveJournal BUT anonymous comments can be posted. Just sign your name so I know who you are. :))**

* * *

Draco was praying to any deity that would have him for fortitude. The sexiest witch in the world was writhing with ecstasy in his arms and his hand was… he could _feel_ the hotness and the wetness and the way her muscles contracted.

Taking the ring off had helped, sure, but he was still so, so close just from seeing her, hearing her, smelling her, touching her…. It would be so easy to just have her right now, up against the wall. She wouldn't mind, he knew. Not even if he only lasted seconds, which was likely if he didn't find a way to cool down.

Hermione was relaxing against him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy, and a few strands of her hair were plastered to her forehead. She looked absolutely lovely. He couldn't help but hold her close, tightening his arms possessively around her. How could she not realize how he felt about her?

"I need you, Hermione," he whispered against her hair, meaning it in more ways than she could possibly comprehend.

She nodded a bit sluggishly. "Why don't we go lie down? It can't be easy carrying me this long and I'm not very much up to carrying myself right now…."

He let her go as she moved to untangle herself from him and watched with satisfaction as she could barely walk straight the few steps to his bed.

She was still wearing the skirt.

He loved that she was still wearing the skirt.

He loved even more that she made no attempt to remove it.

"Why are you still wearing your trousers?" she murmured after she'd sat down.

Because if he hadn't been, then he'd have lost it long ago. She probably knew that already, though, so instead of replying, he slipped one hand into his pocket and into the ring waiting there. Her emotions slammed into him.

Satisfaction. Pleasure. Expectation.

Want.

He wanted to please her so much it scared him. So much it made him hesitate.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied. He couldn't exactly share this inexplicable feeling. Burdening her with how intensely he felt about her would only add unnecessary pressure and who'd want to share feelings like that with someone who wouldn't believe or welcome them, anyway? She wasn't ignorant of his feelings. She was afraid that he would hurt her if she let him close; he saw that now.

He didn't plan on hurting her, but he fully expected this experience to hurt _him_. She was going to walk off and leave him alone again and it was going to rip him apart.

"Lie back," he softly said, looking over her body as she did so. He really had to remember that this was just their bodies coming together.

"Are you just going to stand there?" she prodded.

He gave her a crooked smile and opened his trousers. Her eyes widened and she sat up to follow his movements. He realized that she hadn't really _seen_ him last time, but her curiosity still felt a little embarrassing to him.

The embarrassment lessened when she got some of her curiosity sated and he could feel her need spike. The visual of her squirming a little on the bed, pressing her legs together, eradicated any lingering self-consciousness on his part as he removed his last piece of clothing.

Apparently the visual of his state did the same for her.

As if she had anything to be self-conscious about.

He supposed that might be part of what scared him and made him hesitate. To know that he loved and adored—not to mention desired—her more than anything or anyone else and she… she thought she couldn't even trust him not to ridicule her. She thought it was just physical. She thought this was just a harmless way to take care of an itch. She thought walking away afterwards would be easy.

It probably would be for her.

Now naked, he slowly sat down next to her and bent to kiss her. She accepted the kiss and even responded, pressing up against him.

He was helpless. He had to at least try to _show_ her.

* * *

Hermione felt the hesitation in Draco and was afraid he'd changed his mind right until he kissed her with a passion that hadn't been apparent in his body language.

Well, except maybe parts of it. One particular part certainly _never_ changed its mind.

But that kiss was so fierce and so intense, she could hardly do anything but hang on for dear life as his lips and tongue called the shots. One of his hands slipped down to stroke her breast and then quite without a warning suddenly pinched her, making her gasp with the unexpected pain.

He smiled darkly. "Did you trust me not to do that?" he then asked, his voice smooth as silk. His hand was now stroking her tender, abused flesh.

Hermione was a little confused. "I… hadn't thought about it, really," she muttered.

"I wanted to do it," he said as if he were a bit surprised with himself. "And I want to do this as well…." He bent down to nip her lip hard.

She made a startled sound.

"I know," he muttered, soothing the nipped lip with his tongue. "I think I might be a little angry with you."

"Why?" she asked, already quite distracted by his tongue.

He hesitated. "For saying you don't trust me," he then concluded. "I'm not asking you to trust me with your life, but…." He shrugged.

"I can live with you biting my lip or taking me roughly as long as you _do_, you know, take me…" she said. She should probably have felt more self-conscious about that statement but, really, right now all she could think of was him, inside of her, moving…. Who cared how he did it? As long as he _did_.

He made a strange sound deep in his throat. "I'm not going to be rough with you," he rasped. "Does that disappoint you?"

She considered. "Not really… mind telling me how you plan to be, then?"

"How about showing you?"

Even better! She couldn't seem to make the words come out, though. Instead there was just a moan.

He closed his eyes for a second and then laid down, pulling her on top of him. "Like this," he whispered. "You can decide the pace now."

Her on top? She could see why it would appeal to him. He could lie back and watch her body and the way that silly little skirt he'd wanted her to wear draped over his belly and her thighs, hiding their connection and somehow making it sexier. She didn't have much time to think about it, though, before he had positioned her exactly as he wanted her and then he moved and… _merciful God!!_

His fingers painfully dug into her thighs. "Please… Hermione…" he panted. "Y-your responses…"

She'd never figured that she'd have him begging to enjoy herself less, but she made an effort to suppress some of her feelings. It wasn't easy, though, considering that each movement rubbed her _just right_ where she was still sensitive from before.

"You're going to kill me," he was muttering. "That's it, you're going to kill me, and they're going to find my drained corpse…."

She smiled at his silliness and moved faster, reveling in just how well they seemed to fit together. She knew she was close, that it wasn't going to be long, and no amount of him begging her to hold off could change that.

He reached up and roughly dragged her head down for a kiss. She didn't mind. She was becoming rather frantic herself. Feverish. The need for release was all-consuming.

"Hermione," he suddenly said, his voice strangely… different. "Say that you love me."

Hermione's eyes widened and she lost her rhythm. It had been a command. She could feel the compulsion pulling at her. She stared at him, but his eyes were tightly shut as if he knew she wouldn't like the command, but wanted to ignore it.

"I… love you…" she quietly and hesitantly said. The statement didn't cause meteors to rain on her head, which sort of stupidly surprised her. In fact, it didn't feel as strange as it perhaps should have.

He moaned as if in pain, moving under her, reminding her to resume her pace. She did, and he whispered, "Again."

So, she told him again.

She knew he was close, because she was, and apparently these words gave him pleasure, so right before she gave in to the climax, she whispered them to him one last time before she was swept away.

He stiffened under her, straining up, and she knew that her climax had brought his on. She bent down to kiss him in a haze of post-orgasm tenderness, but to her surprise, he turned his head away.

She told herself it didn't mean anything. He probably just had trouble getting enough oxygen to his brain.

She hoped he didn't notice how it hurt.

* * *

Draco tasted blood and swallowed. Not telling her that he loved her too, not begging her to give him a chance, not showing her exactly how pathetically love-struck he was had taken all he had and then some.

His tongue had taken the brunt of it as he'd bit down on it to keep the words from flowing. Not wanting her to taste the blood, he'd even denied himself a kiss he wanted more than anything.

She hadn't meant her words. Not even when he hadn't told her to say it. She'd just known he wanted to hear it. He didn't need the ring to tell him that. He desperately wanted to hold her close and kiss her and thank her for giving him that much. But he couldn't. She'd given him what he needed, now he had to give her what she needed. A physical experience with no strings. He just needed a minute to force back his emotions so he wouldn't give himself away.

This had been beyond anything he could ever have imagined.

She'd moved off him as soon as they'd got their breaths back and he knew that at some point he had to open his eyes and acknowledge her, and he had to do it without letting anything on. Without showing her how much it hurt to let her go again.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to look at her. She was biting her lip and picking at his duvet. He hadn't really been paying attention for the last few minutes, but she was oozing confusion and insecurity.

"Well, that's that then," he said as nonchalantly as he could.

She almost jumped. "What's what?"

"Your test?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah. I guess." She went back to picking at the duvet, but then apparently decided she felt naked, because she jumped up and began collecting her clothes.

He wanted to tell her not to worry, but how could he without acknowledging his feelings to her again? He sighed and decided he might as well also get dressed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight.

"So, um, when you had me say…" she began when she felt she was suitably covered. He miserably noticed that the fantasy-skirt had once again become real-world-trousers. "I mean, when you told me to—"

"It was just a fantasy," he said, ignoring the pang in his chest and doing his best to sound indifferent. "I just wondered what it would be like…."

"Oh." She blushed and there was a pronounced awkwardness. He really didn't need the ring for this. He reached out and removed her bracelet, taking a deep breath when the void hit him, and trying not to let it show how it depressed him to lose her presence, and then he yanked the ring off his own finger.

"Don't worry," he said, after carelessly tossing the jewelry onto the bedside table. "It had nothing to do with you. I just wanted to know what it would be like if _someone_…." He couldn't finish the sentence. It was such a stupid lie. He hated the never-ending lies. Why couldn't she just be fine with his feelings being what they were?

"So it could have been anyone?" she quietly asked.

"I guess," he muttered, unable to look at her. "I figured it wouldn't hurt. I'm sorry that I forced it instead of asking you, but I guess I was just a little too far gone to ask politely."

Dragon dung. He hadn't asked because she would have refused and he'd been desperate to hear the words from her mouth, even if they were forced. He really just had wanted to know what it would be like to make love to her and have her return his feelings. He'd wanted to imagine that she was his.

The fantasy had been both the best and the worst experience of his life. Now he had to live with _knowing_ what he couldn't have.

"It's… it's ok…." Her voice was very soft, almost inaudible.

It wasn't ok. He shouldn't have forced it. But damn him if he could even remotely find it in himself to regret having done it. He would be dreaming of softly whispered _I love you_'s from her for months to come.

And, really, what had she had to lose?

* * *

Hermione tried to digest Draco's words. He'd just wanted _someone_ to tell him they loved him in bed. That was a good thing, right? It was just her ego smarting. It was never pleasant to be told that you'd gone out of your way to do something anyone else could have done just as well.

He could probably have found another witch who'd have had an easier time with telling him the words, whether they were true or not, but no. He had to torment her and make her… make her tell him words she'd never told _anyone_.

And then, worse, act as if it had been nothing. Act as if he didn't care either way when she'd just for a moment thought….

She forced herself to stop obsessing. They were just words. Meaningless words, even. Apparently. They weren't even worth investigating—he'd just said as much! She'd been silly for thinking that maybe… maybe he wanted _her_ love, even if just in a fantasy. He was over her. Since they'd finished, he hadn't even tried to touch her and he'd rejected her kiss, effectively shooting down any attempt at cuddling or any behavior that could mean _affection_.

She'd actually thought she'd be sleeping here again but… his demeanor seemed to be kicking her out of his bed and she wasn't one to overstay her welcome.

"So… um…" she said, trying to get her mind off this very sore subject. "I don't suppose it would be a good idea to repeat this?"

He immediately adamantly shook his head. "No," he agreed with a finality that had her heart find a new home in her stomach. "I don't either. I'm quite relieved you say that."

Ok, now she wanted to cry. She could be anyone when saying highly personal and intimate things _and_ he didn't even want her physically again? But… hadn't it been good? She blinked furiously and turned away under the pretense of finding her other shoe. Funny thing was, he acted much too oblivious to seem to be doing it on purpose, but he'd certainly found a way to hurt her. She supposed she'd seen the signs. He'd just wanted to get in, get off and get out.

Except she would be doing the getting out.

"Is something the matter?" he asked her back after she'd been fiddling with the dumb shoe for a small eternity.

She cleared her throat. "No. I was just thinking I'd best be going."

"I'll walk you out."

"No!" She couldn't bear the thought of him awkwardly and politely walking her out of the dungeons, thanking her for a nice lay. Especially since she wasn't up to pretending she really was all right when looking him in the eyes. "I mean… no, if I'm caught on my own I can claim I was down here on Head Girl business. You just… stay."

She quickly slipped out before he could do or say anything else. She decided to make haste, as the tears were threatening to spill. It was late, though, and she didn't actually expect to run into anyone, so by the time she'd reached the Slytherin common room, they were already flowing down her cheeks. She bent her head and hurriedly stepped forward.

"Aw, hell!" an annoyed voice said. "What do you—?"

Startled, she looked up at the voice to see Blaise Zabini standing there. _Great_. Her clothes were ruffled and her hair was a mess because she hadn't really thought to fix either completely. She knew there could be no real question as to what had happened.

His annoyance seemed to melt into shock at the sight of her face. "Aw, hell…."

That's when she realized he'd seen she was crying. She quickly brushed the tears off her cheeks. "Not one word," she hissed. "And you won't tell him either!"

"I _assume_ you mean Draco, and why not? It would be a grand way to make him suffer to let him know he made you cry after you…." He made a gesture that indicated her appearance. "That's what you're all about… isn't it?" It sounded more like a legitimate question than an accusation for once, but Hermione was much too embarrassed and desperate to shut him up to marvel at it.

"Don't stir things up, Zabini," she warned. "He knows what happened. He's not fool enough to not realize." But maybe, just maybe, she'd hidden it well enough that they both could pretend he hadn't realized. That was what she hoped for, anyway.

"I think you underestimate how great a fool Draco is."

"I mean it, Zabini! Don't tell him! If you do, I'll… I'll…" She cast about for any threat that might make him do as she asked. "I'll… I'll tell him that I cried because I regretted what happened. He won't like that, will he?" At least his ego wouldn't. But his ego was all there was left.

Zabini frowned very disapprovingly. "Still spiteful as ever, I see. Fine. You get this one to yourself. But… you know how Draco speaks before he thinks. It would probably be better if you just cleared up the misunderstanding right away."

"There's no misunderstanding," she muttered. No, it had been fairly clear how he felt. And how he didn't feel. "If you'll excuse me, I seem to be in dire need of a bath." She hurried out of the room and out into the halls.

She needed to make it to her room before she began crying again, just in case anyone else was up late. They couldn't know. Nobody else could know. It was too humiliating.

* * *

**I won't ever be able to top last chapter's preview...**

**Pansy bared her teeth in an unpleasant smile. "At least I have _something_ to commend me. I never did quite understand why someone like Draco would go for someone like _you_. Not only are you ugly, but you're not half as smart as you _think_ you are. Falling for Draco's lies? Please. You should have realized that he would never truly care about someone of your low birth, poor looks and _annoying_ habits. You were nothing but some little plaything. How amused he must be that he actually seems to have broken your heart."**

**Hermione gaped. Of all the ridiculous things Pansy could have said, that last remark took the cake. Absolutely _nothing_ of Hermione's was broken. Maybe her self-confidence was a little dented and had a crack showing here and there, but that was it!**


	91. Chapter 91

**Kupo's great grandmother turned 85 this weekend. Kupo had tons of fun charming all of those octogenarians. XD**

**Still Featured Author on H&V. Will still respond to comments on that post I linked to in my profile.**

**Dramione Awards is also still going on with the Best of 2009 and can use everyone's seconds / votes. Link should be in my profile.  
**

**H&V has launched their first challenge for artists to create art and writers to write fic for that art. More on that on their site, also linked directly in my profile. ;)**

* * *

Draco was confused.

Once again he'd done _exactly_ what Hermione had asked, had given her _exactly_ what she wanted, and now she was avoiding him. Again. It took him a little while to even realize, since he'd needed some time himself to bounce back from the intense pain of having to give up his fantasy for reality, but she was definitely and obviously avoiding him.

"So you're finally noticing," Blaise drily commented when seeing Draco frown at Hermione after she not-so-stealthily took the long way around the room to avoid him after Potions one Thursday afternoon. "I swear, I thought you'd _never_ get your head out of your arse. It's been weeks!"

"Weeks?" Draco stared at Blaise. So was it because of their night together that she was avoiding him? And… had it really been that long?

He vaguely remembered an unsettling feeling that something had seemed off with her before she'd left his room, but frankly he'd been too depressed to fully notice.

"Just what the hell is wrong with you, Draco?" Blaise growled. "How could you let this long pass without _doing_ something?"

Draco wasn't sure how to explain that without losing his boy parts. "You don't know what happened."

"You mean apart from you sleeping with her again and then—" Blaise suddenly cut off, but then finished the sentence. "And then not noticing that she's been avoiding you ever since?"

Draco did a double-take, very glad that nobody else was left in the classroom. "I don't recall telling you anything about sleeping with her."

"Um, it was obvious, wasn't it?" Blaise muttered.

Draco stared at Blaise and then folded his arms across his chest. "No. I don't think it was. Did she say something to you?"

"No. She didn't have to." Blaise was looking away.

"You didn't just guess," Draco said. "You're _not_ that smart. You didn't know the first time and you didn't know this time either! How _do_ you know?"

Blaise looked confused at how harshly Draco accused him. "I saw her, all right? I saw her after she'd left your room. She was all rumpled and it really didn't take a genius."

"And you held off taking a dig at me until now? I never knew you had such restraint!" Draco drily commented.

"Well, you've barely registered anything lately anyway and _you_ certainly didn't bring it up and… it just didn't seem that funny." Blaise was very carefully avoiding looking at Draco.

"Not funny? You think everything is funny!" Draco was feeling suspicious. His common sense told him that Blaise didn't deserve his suspicion, but…. Hermione had used the idea of Blaise taking her virginity to take the piss out of Draco. Why had she even _thought_ of that?

"Yeah…" Blaise muttered. "I guess. But why don't you patch things up with her?"

"Ok, _what_ exactly did you see?"

"Nothing! N—… Look, it's been weeks, mate. You've been a zombie and she's been avoiding you so carefully that _everyone_ knows something happened." Blaise looked ready to pull his own hair out.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise, who didn't seem inclined to say anything more. He supposed he was right, though. Draco really _had_ been a zombie. He didn't deal well with giving up dreams.

But something was just off about this whole thing. Had he accidentally offended her? He knew she'd liked it. He'd _felt_ it. It had been absolutely amazing to be allowed to feel her like that.

"Did… she didn't say anything, then?" Draco asked Blaise.

Blaise winced and shrugged. "I, um, suppose I insulted her for being a slag and I'm sure she shot back at me?"

"You did _what_?"

"Is that not what you'd expect me to do?"

"No! Leave her the _fuck_ alone!"

"That's rich coming from you!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Blaise didn't reply but just clenched his jaw, glaring at Draco.

"I don't seek her out to insult her!" Draco continued.

"No, you just do it whenever she gives you an opening, don't you? Are you _deliberately_ ruining it for yourself? Do you _enjoy_ constantly pushing her out of your reach?"

Draco adopted a defensive stance. "You obviously have something to say to me, so say it."

Blaise grimaced and then swung his bag over his shoulder. "I just said it, you dimwit."

Scowling at Blaise's retreating back, Draco tried to recall what exactly had happened that night. He'd given Hermione exactly what she wanted… hadn't he? He had let her go. He'd locked his door and thrown his wand clear across his room so he wouldn't follow her out and beg her to come back so he could just… hold her a little while longer.

No, he'd done everything right this time. It had been a clean cut. Just like she wanted.

* * *

Hermione was sitting at the library, absent-mindedly doodling on a piece of paper. She didn't feel like studying, but she didn't feel like going back to her common room either. Sitting here was fine with her, really. It was peaceful. She could just empty her head and _be_.

It wasn't like all this studying was going to make her smarter at life, anyway. She had misread Malfoy to a degree that was just… bad. Thank God she hadn't _really_ considered being with him. Just sex. Always just sex. Not even a kiss after… after… afterwards. Just thank you and goodbye.

She'd thought it would be more satisfying to get that itch taken care of but instead she just felt empty. Like she'd expected it to go differently. Like she'd expected _him_ to _act_ differently. She supposed she'd expected him to act like he had the last time, which was just stupid. He'd still been suffering from the after-effects of some pretty powerful magic then, making him think he was in love with her.

At least he didn't seem to be spreading any tales. She actually hadn't thought he would. It didn't really matter either way, though, because whether he realized it or not, he'd got to her in a way she'd sworn she'd never let him.

As long as Zabini just kept his mouth shut, however, there was no reason that Malfoy should ever find out just how badly he'd got to her. She really hoped he never found out. She didn't think he'd mock her; worse, she thought he might apologize for misleading her. He hadn't mislead her. He'd been perfectly up-front about what he did and did not want. She'd just got mixed up, that was all.

She was all sorted now.

"You're so predictable it's not even funny," one of Hermione's least favorite voices in the world said.

"Parkinson," Hermione replied as pleasantly as she possibly could, "to what do I owe the nuisance?"

"Oh, I was actually looking for Draco. But, of course, we all know that _you_ wouldn't know where he's at." The glee in Pansy's voice was almost too much to bear.

"I also wish I didn't know where you were at. What's your point?"

"Oh, don't be such a bad sport, Granger. It could have been worse. He could have slept with you before he lost interest."

_What? Had he told her?_ Hermione tried to hide her reaction, but it was a moment too late. The widening of her eyes, parting of her lips and cautious glance were put together too much for even someone as dimwitted as Pansy to miss.

"Oh, Merlin! He actually did?" Pansy looked stunned for a second and an indefinable expression crossed her face, before she raised a hand to her mouth, ineffectually hiding her laugh. "Now I know my boy again. So, tell me, Granger. Did he sleep with you before or after he lost interest? You know how boys will be boys. They don't care who's in their bed. Did he tell you he loved you to get you to do it? I bet he did. And you actually _believed_ him?"

No, she _hadn't_ believed him! Not then, anyway. But what was the point of telling Parkinson what had really been going on? She was nothing but a spiteful bitch. And it didn't _seem_ like Malfoy had told her, but that could possibly just be Pansy covering her own arse. "I don't know what you're talk—"

"Cut the crap, Granger, and take some acting lessons. My Draco got you good this time. I'm proud of him. I just wish he would have told me. I could have told everyone else."

Hermione still doubted that Draco really hadn't told Pansy, but she wasn't about to say anything about that. It would be better to pretend that the suspicion didn't hurt like hell. "And why do you suppose he didn't?" she asked. "Could it be that it's _none of your business_?"

Pansy just gave a small shrug. "It's probably to spare Astoria. He came crawling back to her a few weeks ago. This time for real. The agreements are almost drawn up."

Hermione blinked. "Agreements? What Agreements?"

"The prenuptial agreements, silly. Joining the Greengrasses to the Malfoys is no small feat. Both families need to make sure that their interests are upheld."

Hermione snorted. "Are you honestly claiming he's getting married now?"

"Well, not right now, of course," Pansy scoffed. "But I think Astoria has her heart set on a Christmas wedding. Draco doesn't really have an opinion, he just wants to move things along now that he has… taken care of business."

Hermione wasn't stupid; she wasn't buying that Draco was suddenly marrying his ex-girlfriend out of the blue, but that remark sounded a little too close to some things Draco had said himself for Hermione's comfort. Could he really have decided to do something stupid?

But so what if he _were_ getting back with Astoria Greengrass? Who cared? She knew she certainly didn't. They had _taken care of business_ and that was… that.

Rather than questioning the sudden pain in her chest, Hermione said, "Yeah? Well, I'll have to congratulate him on not choosing you. I knew his tastes had evolved."

"Look who's talking," Pansy sniffed. "But if I were you, I'd hold off on the congratulations a month or so. It's supposed to be a secret for now."

"Would it get you in trouble?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"No… but it might lead to Astoria finding out about just how far you and Draco went and getting hurt in what's supposed to be the happiest time of her life. Of course… if you want to hurt an innocent girl who did nothing but fall in love with Draco a bit before he was ready…."

Hermione glared at Pansy. That manipulative little witch was really covering well for her lies, wasn't she? "I get it! Ugh, I really don't understand what Ron sees in a conniving bitch like you."

"I do, but I'm too pretty for a Weasley." Pansy fluffed up her hair. "The two of you should get together. What, with his lack of brains and your lack of looks…."

"But maybe he preferred your lack of personality?"

Pansy bared her teeth in an unpleasant smile. "At least I have _something_ to commend me. I never did quite understand why someone like Draco would go for someone like _you_. Not only are you ugly, but you're not half as smart as you _think_ you are. Falling for Draco's lies? Please. You should have realized that he would never truly care about someone of your low birth, poor looks and _annoying_ habits. You were nothing but some little plaything. How amused he must be that he actually seems to have broken your heart."

Hermione gaped. Of all the ridiculous things Pansy could have said, that last remark took the cake. Absolutely _nothing_ of Hermione's was broken. Maybe her self-confidence was a little dented and had a crack showing here and there, but that was it!

"Shut it, Pansy!" Neither of them had noticed that Ron was standing right behind Pansy until he said the exact words Hermione had planned on saying. Hermione wondered how much he'd heard. From the anger in his eyes, he'd probably heard enough. She was sorry he'd had to hear the witch he liked say such low things. Disillusionment tended to suck.

"Weasley?" Pansy asked with a confused frown. "Are you stalking me again?"

"No," Ron replied in a voice much colder than you'd expect from someone talking to their crush of several weeks. "I was coming for Hermione when I heard you."

"Right." Pansy shrugged as if she didn't have a care in the world. "It can't be a great surprise to you that I don't like either of you."

"No," he coolly replied, coming forward and standing next to Hermione's seat. "I'm beginning to realize that won't change. But don't you _dare_ insult Hermione. She's a lot smarter and prettier inside out than you'll ever be."

Hermione tugged on Ron's sleeve. "You don't have to do this."

Ron didn't react at all. He seemed set on having the confrontation. He was a loyal friend, but, really, this was hardly the first time Hermione had butted heads with Pansy Parkinson and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

Pansy snorted. "You don't mean that, Weasley."

"Oh, I mean it," Ron growled. "And if _your Draco_ had a chance at being with her and threw it away, then he's _much stupider_ than I'll ever be!"

Hermione closed her eyes. That sounded so, so wrong and really wasn't what Ron should be saying to the witch he wanted a chance with.

Pansy's gaze flickered between Ron and Hermione. "Oh... so that's…." Her voice faltered a little. "I see. Well, isn't that just convenient for everyone? Gryffindors sure do rebound quickly." She sounded a lot more bewildered than sarcastic.

"Are you ready?" Ron curtly asked Hermione without disabusing Pansy of her notion. Maybe he was clueless. Or maybe he thought he could make Pansy jealous? That would probably not be the best plan.

Hermione just nodded and got up, not knowing what else to do.

"It's good you finally realized I'm too good for you," Pansy said as they were walking past her.

Ron stopped, half-turned and pinned Pansy with a glare. "You don't seem to understand. You're not _too_ _good_ for me. Nor are you _too pretty_. You're just about the worst and ugliest witch I ever met. I just didn't realize before. Thank you for showing me before I wasted anymore of my time."

That seemed to leave Pansy speechless. Hermione couldn't blame her; she was rather speechless herself.

* * *

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed, making Hermione glad that their common room was almost deserted. "The mystery girl was _Pansy Parkinson_? Draco Malfoy's ex-girlfriend Pansy Parkinson?"

"No, the other Pansy Parkinson!" Ron drily said. He'd made the decision to tell Harry about Pansy and get it over with straight after the library incident. Hermione felt it was a very rushed decision, but it wasn't really her place to judge.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"He just did," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but he also said he's over her now, so it's no fun anymore."

Hermione looked over at Ron, who was currently looking rather despondent. "_Is_ it over?" she softly asked.

He shrugged. "I guess it has to be, doesn't it? I mean, I liked the girl she _could_ be if she wanted to, but… tonight she showed that she didn't want to. She was so spiteful… I'm sorry, Hermione."

Hermione was sorry too. She would have liked to see Ron happy. "Maybe she could still be that girl?"

"Does it matter? Is it really right to go after someone, wanting to change them? Maybe she's happy the way she is. I'd just thought… and when I kissed her…."

"Wait, you kissed her?" Harry scowled at both Ron and Hermione. "Why doesn't anyone tell me _anything_ anymore?"

Ron sighed. "Nobody knew about it, ok? It was only that one time and she didn't push me away right away so I just thought…."

"Maybe she doesn't mean it that badly," Hermione offered. "Maybe it's just some sort of a… a… defense mechanism?"

"It doesn't matter! In any case, I don't care what she says about me; it was the way she spoke to you! I could never tolerate any witch treating my friends like that!"

"What exactly did she say?" Harry asked.

Hermione's fists clenched in her lap. She wasn't ready for this conversation.

"It doesn't matter," Ron said. "It was just a bunch of insults."

Harry frowned but didn't say anything. Hermione knew he felt left out. It was just so hard to include him in some things, because he didn't _understand_. He'd never been involved with someone he was supposed to hate. She supposed she might as well get it over with, though. "She, um, she insinuated that Draco had tricked me into bed and th-then dumped me afterwards for not being up to his standards. She was rather happy about it."

"But that's ridiculous!" Harry said with a laugh. "You wouldn't jump into bed with that git!"

There was a silence.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, suddenly looking wary.

"I wasn't tricked," was all Hermione managed to say before being cut off by a string of very loud and very colorful oaths.

"Easy, Harry," Ron muttered with a sigh. "I hate him as much as the next bloke but… we saw it coming, didn't we?"

He avoided looking Hermione in the eyes, though, and he looked far from happy.

"He didn't _do_ anything," Hermione insisted. "It was my idea and we weren't actually _together_, so how could he dump me?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry sarcastically said, "maybe by gazing at you for months with the most lovesick expression I've _ever_ seen on a bloke—and that includes the time Ron was under the influence of Amortentia—and then turning on you as soon as he got what he wanted?"

"It was _my_ idea, it was what _I_ wanted!" Hermione insisted, jumping to her feet. "He didn't turn on me; he didn't trick me; he didn't lie to me; he didn't mislead—" Her voice broke ever so slightly, but it was enough for Ron's eyes to snap up and narrow at her. "I knew what I was doing," she said with her own eyes lowered. "I knew what I was getting into. I would appreciate it if you'd never mention this to _anyone_ again."

She mumbled some unintelligible excuse including homework and feeding her cat and fled to her room before anyone could realize her eyes were watering.

She didn't want to identify the reason. She really didn't. It didn't matter anymore.

* * *

**He turned a corner and was met with sudden exploding pain in the middle of his face as someone punched him too quickly for him to see who it was. He cried out with the pain, but was then gripped by fear. Had they come again? Were they going to kill everyone? _Hermione_. He needed to warn her, make sure she… what? That she was safe? She'd run head-first into trouble the minute he told her. Maybe if he—**

**"_That_ was for you being a git in general, now stand up straight so I can give you what you deserve for the way you've treated Hermione."**

**_Potter_?**


	92. Chapter 92

**Hey, I'm almost making once a week. Go me! ;P**

**Well, here's the long-awaited confrontation...**

* * *

Draco walked the halls back from the library, yawning. This was _exactly_ how he wanted to be spending his Saturday night—researching for dumb essays! He couldn't wait for school to be done. Just a couple of months….

And then he wouldn't see Hermione again.

On second thought, the essays weren't that bad.

He turned a corner and was met with sudden exploding pain in the middle of his face as someone punched him too quickly for him to see who it was. He cried out with the pain, but was then gripped by fear. Had they come again? Were they going to kill everyone? _Hermione_. He needed to warn her, make sure she… what? That she was safe? She'd run head-first into trouble the minute he told her. Maybe if he—

"_That_ was for you being a git in general, now stand up straight so I can give you what you deserve for the way you've treated Hermione."

_Potter_?

Draco straightened, tentatively feeling his nose. He hissed with the pain of it. His head was pounding and he had a hard time focusing his vision. He didn't plan on letting any of it on, though.

"You know, Potter," he slowly said, "I always found it quite endearing how you make a pretense out of fancying girls. Is this to show Weasley what a manly man you are? The boy Weasley, I mean. Not the girl."

He was still fiddling with his nose, considering running up to the Hospital Wing afterwards to have it taken care of just in case it was broken. He really didn't have the kind of face that could sport a crooked nose very well.

Potter frowned. "What?" He shook his head. "Never mind."

Then he punched Draco again, right in the mouth.

"_Son of a_—!" Draco exclaimed as it felt like the pain split his skull open and the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth. He was going to get the worst migraine _ever_. He spat, hoping some of it hit Potter, but not seeing well enough to be sure. "Would you fucking stop doing that?" He tentatively felt his lip and then growled. It had split. So much for his good looks.

"You used her," Potter growled. "You softened her until you could get what you wanted and then you threw her aside like… like she was nothing but rubbish."

"What?" Draco frowned in confusion, trying to will his bruised brains to think. "Who?"

Potter's eyes widened. "_There have been more?"_

Draco groaned at the shout and then dodged the next blow just in time, making his head throb extra painfully with the motion, while considering whether Hermione would be _very_ mad at him if they found Potter's corpse in the morning. "I swear," he muttered. "If you weren't a friend of Hermione's…."

"Then what? Then it would have been easier for you to get away with?" Potter harshly asked.

"Wait, I'm supposed to have done something to _her_?" Draco frowned again. Almost anything he did these days was _for_ Hermione, so how the hell would Potter get an idea like that?

"Don't act innocent, Malfoy. She _told _us!" Potter was looking absolutely livid.

"Told you what?" Draco quietly asked.

"You slept with her!"

"Yeah, but…." Draco straightened and then grimaced as a wave of nausea hit him. Oh, yes. Migraine. "Not against her will!"

Potter took another wild swing that Draco also barely dodged. Soon he would have to strike back just to make Potter _stop_.

"You fucking tricked her!" Potter hissed. "Just because she's smart doesn't mean that she's not a _girl_. One with a soft spot for lost causes, even! How dare you get what you want and then laugh at her behind her back and even to her face?"

"Whoa!" Draco stepped back just to make sure Potter couldn't easily take another swing at him. "First off, I didn't trick her to do anything! Second of all, laugh at her? I don't know how she got _that_ impression! I've done _nothing_ she didn't want! I left her alone like she wanted after _she_ got what _she_ wanted from_ me_! It wasn't _me_ who went to _her_ room to take advantage of _her_ soft spot!" Ugh, the state of his head really didn't lend itself to long and passionate speeches. Draco hoped Potter would just _get it _and go away.

"Nice try, Malfoy!" Potter said, drawing his arm back.

So Draco did the only thing left to do and took a step forward and kneed Potter in the groin to spare his own abused head. As Potter crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, Draco said, "_Someone_ got used but it wasn't her. I want her and you know it. You just don't want to face it. None of you do. Least of all her." Then Draco turned around and walked up to the Hospital Wing, where he would explain to Madam Pomfrey how he'd tripped and hit a wall—twice.

And tomorrow he would find Hermione and find out _exactly_ what kind of stories _she_ had been spreading about _him_.

* * *

"You know, Granger, avoiding me like that only postpones the inevitable."

Hermione jumped in her seat. She hadn't heard anyone entering the office. She quickly glanced over at Theo to see if he looked surprised, but he didn't. Of course he didn't.

"You'd better not be bothering the Head Girl again, Draco," Theo said without even looking up.

"Maybe if I could talk to her alone?" Draco asked.

"Not a chance," Theo calmly replied. Hermione was quite glad; she couldn't handle Draco alone right now.

"Fine. Just exactly how much am I bothering you… Granger?" Draco's voice was rather ominous.

Hermione still wasn't sure how to look him in the eyes or talk to him as if nothing had ever happened, but she supposed that she had to. He was right—she was only postponing the inevitable. She slowly turned around and then gasped as she saw his face, momentarily forgetting her own discomfort. "What happened?"

He darkly smiled. "It's funny you should ask that. It seems that last night Potter took exception to how I've been _using_ you. Forgive me if it surprised me what you've been telling your friends. The way I remember it, _you_ were the one to suggest certain… intimacies… for _testing_ purposes."

Theo had turned around in his chair as well and folded his arms over his chest. "What do you know. He has a legit reason to be angry. At least if that's true."

Hermione glanced at Theo, whose face was a closed book as always, and then back at Draco. "I-I didn't." She got up and took a few steps closer to Draco. He had two black eyes, both the area around his nose and on his chin seemed swollen under all the bruising and he had a split lip. "You should go to the Hospital Wing with that."

"I did," he harshly said. "Pomfrey told me I'll live. Thanks for your concern. But if you sic your friends on me again, I can't answer for them."

"Good! I didn't even sic them on you the first time! Damn that Harry, I _told_ him it wasn't like that!" Hermione was so frustrated, she didn't know what to do with herself. She ran one hand through her hair, nervously tangling her fingers in the curls. "Even Ron seemed to realize that Pansy was just stirring up trouble when she said those things," she babbled.

Draco frowned. "Pansy?"

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him, but then closed it again. Who was she to come between Draco and his friends? "Nothing. I'm… I'm really sorry about this. It won't happen again."

"You're damn right, it won't!" he hissed. "If it does, I'll make damn sure _everyone_ knows how it all really happened!" He turned around and marched out, slamming the door behind himself.

Hermione jumped at the loud sound and closed her eyes. Great. Now he hated her. This was just what she'd been hoping for! Thanks a lot, Harry! She took a deep breath, trying to not _feel_. She didn't like it when she felt things around Draco. It always hurt.

"Wow, I could give you two a manual with lots of little pictures and you _still_ wouldn't be able to figure it out, would you?" Theo drily asked.

"Who can blame him for being angry?" Hermione muttered, slowly sitting back down at her desk. "He's been accused of taking advantage of me when he hardly even wanted to… um, never mind."

"Make no mistake, he wanted to do it. He also did take advantage of you. He used you to feel like he had what he wanted. That doesn't mean you didn't want to be used or that you didn't use him too, though. It's all semantics and irrelevant to the case. You people are beginning to bore me. Could you two at least _try_ to react less primitively to each other?"

If Theo only knew exactly _how_ primitively Hermione reacted to Draco. She blushed and, then, knowing how telling that blush was, she blushed even deeper. Damn it. Theo would draw all kinds of conclusions. All of them correct. "It's not like any of that matters anyway. Harry was wrong to attack him."

"Perhaps. But he was looking out for you. And that's not why Draco is angry, anyway."

"No, he's angry because he thinks I lied."

"No. He's angry because he needs to be angry at you before he can get over you and move on. He's _finally_ moving towards the final stages. You'd better act quickly if you want to keep him pining for you." The last line was fairly dripping with sarcasm.

"That's ridiculous," Hermione objected. "You don't need to be angry at someone to get over them."

"Some people do."

"I don't."

"No, you move on remarkably well."

"So, you're saying I'm fickle?" Hermione's face fell completely. Draco had often said the same thing. Maybe that was even why he didn't _really_ want her.

"No." Theo's voice was almost gentle. "I'm saying that it's about time you admit _you_ want _him_ and that you won't know what to do with yourself if he actually manages to move on."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, he _said_—"

"Forget what comes out of his mouth. He's too stupid to be trusted to speak."

"Why are you saying all this?" Hermione suspiciously eyed Theo. "Is this another one of your evil schemes?"

The small smile he gave seemed to cost him a lot of effort. "I like you, Hermione. For some highly illogical reason you like him. A lot. And I really hate to see you hurting. Just take my advice; ignore his words and judge him by his actions."

"But he didn't even kiss me," she whispered.

"What?"

"After… after we… he rejected my kiss. He said we shouldn't do it again. He didn't want me there, didn't even look at me or touch me." She fought against the tears gathering in her eyes. "I don't know where this could eventually have gone, but he's obviously over it, so it's all fairly pointless."

"That was more than I wanted to know," Theo muttered.

Hermione shook her head. "And even if it _had_ been possible to have something, I _can't_ ignore that he said we could never be serious. I can't be with anyone who wouldn't be seen with me in public. He never made the slightest hint that he changed his mind about that!"

"And you think he's fool enough to not change his mind for love?"

Hermione shook her head again. "He moved on too easily. I don't believe he was ever _really_ in love with me. He just thought he was."

"That would be an obstacle."

"I know."

"But did you at least finally realize that you might be a little bit in love with him?"

Hermione swallowed and forced her mind to be a blank. "I'm not a glutton for punishment."

"If you truly believe that, then there are two obstacles."

"Are you saying that I am?"

Theo leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips. "I'm saying that if you don't want to fight for it, then far be it from me to care. Do you have the detention list?"

Hermione blinked, feeling a little disoriented. "Um, sure."

"Ok. The easy way to go would be to make each detention a night of rounds. That might even lighten the load a bit for the rest of us. What do you think?"

Apparently, just like that, the other conversation was over.

It was better that way, anyway.

* * *

Draco's bag slammed down on the common room table, covering Pansy's _Witch Weekly_.

"Hey!" she objected, but then widened her eyes as she got a good look at his face. "What happened to _you_?"

"Daphne, leave," Draco coldly said to the witch on the sofa next to Pansy while his eyes never left Pansy's. "Personal business."

Daphne Greengrass seemed to get the hint, because she scurried away without complaint.

"Now, that wasn't very nice of you," Pansy said, folding her arms and staring him down.

"Shut up, Pansy," he harshly said. "I will give you _one_ chance to tell me what tales you've been spreading."

"You really have to be more specific than that, Draco," she said, casually studying her fingernails.

"I bet I do," he growled. "What did you tell Potter?"

"_Potter_?" Pansy looked genuinely surprised. "I don't tend to _talk_ to Potter. He's much too sanctimonious for my tastes. Did he do that to you?"

Draco didn't reply. "Weasley, then? Don't think I didn't notice how you've been encouraging him."

Pansy's lips parted in indignation. "I would _never_ encourage that daft tosser! And, besides, he finally seemed to take a hint when I told that Granger that—" She abruptly cut off.

"Yes?" Draco silkily asked. "Please do tell me what you told _Granger_."

Pansy shrugged. "It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Just told her that he was stupid and she was ugly."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You can do better than that."

"I was testing her!" Pansy defensively said. "To see if she cared about you. But she hardly even reacted!"

"What did you _say_?" he growled.

"Um…" Pansy conspicuously picked at invisible lint on her sleeve. "What did you hear?"

"Pansy, unless you want to permanently lose those pretty golden locks of yours…."

"All right! All right!" Pansy threw up her hands. "I _suppose_ I might have said that you've been using her for sex, don't care about her, and have moved on. But, Draco, when I suspected that the two of you had… you know… I couldn't help but try and see if she had any _feelings_ for you. I took a swipe at every insecurity I _know_ she has and a few I _suspect_ she has, and she _should_ have been running crying from the room, but there was no sign that it bothered her at all. In fact, she seems to… to have taken up with Weasley now."

That immediately distracted Draco. Weasley? Ron Weasley? That freckled loser she touched _much_ too often to be decent? Draco wished he couldn't believe it. He really did. Unfortunately, he was currently doing his very best to be realistic and it was _very_ realistic that Hermione Granger would end up with Ron Weasley.

He didn't have the right to care who she ended up with, though. He could not show jealousy.

Draco found himself wondering if he could make hexing Weasley look like payback for being punched by Potter.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**Harry's smile froze as he realized she was serious. "He kneed me in the… you know!" He indicated his groin area.**

**"I saw his face; it was all swollen and bruised! You deserved to be kneed! In fact, I hope he kneed you _hard_!"**

**Harry began to look panicked. "You're not serious, Hermione? Hermione? No! Please! Anything else! Don't make me do this, please! I'm willing to _beg_!"**

**Hermione snorted and then laughed in a decidedly evil manner as she entered the Great Hall.**

**"That one really has been spending too much time with Slytherins," Harry muttered.**

**Ron sniggered. "I don't know. I thought it was funny too."**

**Harry moaned. "I'm doomed."**


	93. Chapter 93

**Random: I hate that I always have the most plot bunnies when I have the least time to write. I put my "important" fic projects aside so that I might attempt to do some class work, and then I got blindsided by a Blaise/Pansy bunny. I never intended to write Blaise/Pansy but apparently this one-shot insists on its right to live.**

**Also: Only 10 parts left after this one. Oooooooohhh.  
**

* * *

"Did it occur to you that maybe Granger wasn't bothered because she didn't believe your lies about me? Or maybe _your_ words just don't matter to her?" Draco angrily demanded from Pansy, snapping out of his distraction. It didn't honestly matter if Hermione was with Weasley or not. "Or, here's a thought: that maybe it was _none of your business_?"

Pansy was fidgeting a bit under Draco's glare. Good. He was thoroughly fed up with people voicing their opinions about something that _really_ wasn't any of their business!

"She believed me," Pansy quietly said. "At least most of what I said. And, usually, I can make her spitting mad. This time, however, it was as if she just couldn't be arsed to respond. As if the things I said didn't matter even if they were true."

"And of course you performed this _test_ out of the goodness of your heart. To help me," he sarcastically said.

"Actually…" Pansy muttered, "I'm not sure why I did it or what response I'd hoped for, but I wasn't planning on telling you that she didn't react. I'm not that cold. I know you have feelings for her. But now you know, I guess."

"Right. And of course you would have told me if she had been madly in love with me."

Pansy looked away. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, I think you can do a _lot_ better than her, but… you apparently liked her enough to sleep with her. That's more than you ever liked me or even Astoria. Maybe, just maybe, I would have wanted to see you happy. But we'll never know, will we?"

"No, I guess we won't," Draco coldly replied. He didn't feel very charitable with Pansy today. No matter what reasons she claimed to have had for trying to hurt Hermione, she had still _tried to hurt Hermione_. He didn't like that one bit. Especially not if Hermione had believed Pansy's lies about how he'd used her.

Not that it really mattered, but he just didn't like Hermione thinking worse of him than she had to.

Pansy shrugged as if she didn't care, but he knew better. She was good at hiding her feelings, but he'd been close to her for years. She was hurt that he would stay mad at her for insulting Hermione after Pansy had claimed it was for his sake. So be it.

"Just don't tell _them_ that my insults served a purpose. I have a reputation, you know," she muttered. "I can't be perceived to potentially aid you in your pursuit of a _Muggleborn_."

"Did Weasley write you poetry yet?" he asked, suddenly changing the subject. He couldn't bear talking about Hermione in this context right now.

Pansy's lips parted. "_You_ told him about that?" This time the hurt in her eyes wasn't even concealed.

"Well, what can I say?" Draco's voice was hard. "Granger offered me a deal I couldn't refuse."

"More sex?" Pansy bitterly asked.

His lips quirked, but his eyes remained cold. "No. A kiss."

Pansy looked away, wounded at being sold so cheaply. Little did she realize how he valued those kisses. "Well, his poetry was almost as bad as yours," she said after a few seconds. "You know, before you figured out how to copy from the library and didn't think I'd notice."

Draco shrugged, not prepared to feel guilty over that one. "At least the quality improved. You should be happy about that."

"It was never about quality. It was about effort. Dedication. All you were dedicated to was shutting me up with as little effort as possible." She took a deep breath. "Are we done with this conversation yet?"

Ok, that did it. Draco felt just a little bit guilty. He refused to let it show, though. Pansy was a master manipulator and he didn't entirely trust her to be honest with him on this. Besides, he was still punishing her. "I don't know why you pretend you don't like having Weasley dogging you. I know you secretly like having admirers, even if you only ever want to _be_ with people that don't really want you in return."

Her lips tightened. "Weasley's admiration is cheap," she calmly replied. "He thinks I'm someone I'm not. He doesn't realize that we live in different worlds and, more importantly, are loyal to different people and causes. He should not have been that surprised that I insulted his friend. He certainly should not have been that hurt and angry with me. He simply assumed that when given his attentions, I would begin to share his values and act like he thinks I should. I admit that had he reacted differently to this, I might have… considered something. I get lonely too, you know. But he never truly fancied _me_, and I think I require that in a wizard."

Draco couldn't help being surprised at Pansy's assessment. "That's… actually rather deep, coming from you."

She sniffed. "Please. It's not like he's the first wizard to think he fancied me when all he wanted was some made-up version of me, wearing my face. I seem to have _some_ experience with that."

Ouch. But he supposed he deserved that particular jab. "And your solution to that is to scare him away rather than see if he'll actually like the real you? Sounds unhealthy."

"First off, that _was_ the 'real me' scaring him off. Second off, why would I _really_ want that dimwitted, freckled excuse for a blood traitor to _like_ me? I can do better. You just sort out your own love life and leave me to sort out mine." She got up, fished out her _Witch Weekly_ from under Draco's bag, and strutted over to the dormitories.

* * *

"Come on, Hermione. You have to start talking to me again sometime!" Harry had to lengthen his strides to keep up with Hermione, who was actively ignoring him as she was making her way to the Great Hall for dinner.

Hermione turned to Ron with a frown. "Do you hear anything? It's like a vague buzzing."

Ron pursed his lips. "You're fairly unforgiving; you know that, right? I'm sure Harry didn't _mean_ to be a hot-headed git."

"No, that's usually _your_ job!" Harry grumbled. "But considering how philosophical you've become lately, I had to take care of matters _myself._"

"And when will you learn that _violence won't solve anything_?" Hermione hissed, momentarily forgetting that she was ignoring Harry.

"Blimey, Harry, seems like she's talking to you again."

"I am _not_," she growled, speeding up her walk to a near-run.

"I already said I was sorry!" Harry pleaded, getting in her way so she had to walk around him. "And I admit that maybe he didn't deserve being pummeled in _this_ case."

"You know he didn't! I _told_ you he didn't!" Hermione angrily tossed her hair over her shoulder and made such a narrow turn around the corner that Harry bumped against the wall. It gave her a bit of childish satisfaction.

"He made you lie before!" Harry objected.

"She was wearing the bracelet then," Ron reminded Harry.

"Thanks, mate. I _know_ that."

Hermione stopped up and stomped her foot. "You just wanted an excuse to punch him. You're _always_ looking for excuses to get into fights with him. And now he thinks I told you lies about him when, ironically, I had more or less accused _him_ of telling lies about _me_." She began marching again.

"For what it's worth, I don't think he did," Harry offered, once again getting in Hermione's way and forcing her to stop for a second.

"No, really, Einstein?" Hermione pushed Harry out of the way and walked on.

"No, really, what?" Ron asked with a frown.

"No, really, he didn't spread lies about her. Pay attention, Ron." Harry frowned at his friend.

"No, I meant… never mind."

"A Muggle reference from home," Hermione patiently explained, making a show out of half-turning her back on Harry, which was no mean feat, considering the speed she was walking with.

"Oh…" Ron frowned in thought. "Strange, but ok."

"Did anyone notice the part where I did _not_ think Malfoy had done something bad for once?" Harry almost shouted, apparently not appreciating being invisible.

Hermione and Ron both stopped in their tracks. "Yes, we heard you," Hermione calmly said. "But I'd already _told_ you so, so it doesn't matter. You still cocked up!"

"And you know I can't stand the git either," Ron chimed in almost apologetically, "but even I can tell he's arse over elbow for her."

"He's not," Hermione objected.

"If you say so," Ron placidly replied.

"_Stop_ claiming that he is!" Hermione almost stomped her foot again.

Ron and Harry looked at each other in a most annoying way. "Ok…" Harry slowly said. "If I promise not to claim anything, will you forgive me?"

"No," Hermione sniffed. "But if you _apologize_ to him, I might."

Harry laughed. "Good one, Hermione."

Hermione folded her arms and narrowed her eyes in an exceptionally effective glare.

Harry's smile froze as he realized she was serious. "He kneed me in the… you know!" He indicated his groin area.

"I saw his face; it was all swollen and bruised! You deserved to be kneed! In fact, I hope he kneed you _hard_!"

Harry began to look panicked. "You're not serious, Hermione? Hermione? No! Please! Anything else! Don't make me do this, please! I'm willing to _beg_!"

Hermione snorted and then laughed in a decidedly evil manner as she entered the Great Hall.

"That one really has been spending too much time with Slytherins," Harry muttered.

Ron sniggered. "I don't know. I thought it was funny too."

Harry moaned. "I'm doomed."

* * *

"Stop moping," Blaise admonished, scowling at his friend. They were at dinner, but so far Draco had done little but poke his presumably already dead food with a fork.

"I'm not moping!" Draco muttered.

Blaise gave him a once-over. "Yeah… you are."

"I'm just not hungry!" Draco pushed away his plate.

"And you're moping."

"You're bloody annoying. You do realize that, yeah?"

"I _also_ have a girlfriend—imagine that!" Blaise beamed.

This was a new development that quite frankly made Blaise insufferable. Not that it really was that big a development in Draco's eyes. Tracey might allow Blaise to claim to himself and Draco that they were together, but they still weren't very public about it. It was Draco's impression that the secrecy was Tracey's idea but that Blaise was too scared of his mother not to be a little relieved that Tracey now _wanted_ this arrangement.

It was so messed up.

"That just adds to what's annoying about you," Draco stated.

"I really think you should—" Blaise began.

Someone cleared their throat behind Draco's left shoulder.

"Bugger off, I'm fighting with Blaise," Draco said without looking up.

Blaise snorted. "You can fight with me any time."

"Yeah, and I do, don't I?" Draco muttered.

"So, you two are like an old married couple?" a most unwelcome voice said from behind Draco, making him tense. "Good to know."

"Forget it, Poofy Potter," Draco said, slowly turning around. "You're not my _type_. My type has, you know, girl parts. And, I beg of you, stay away from the Polyjuice."

Potter frowned behind those annoying and oh-so-smashable glasses. "You're not making this easy, you know," he said.

Blaise sniggered. "I don't think he meant to," he offered, ever helpful. "I think he meant to let you down gently."

Draco couldn't keep from laughing out loud. He'd known he kept Blaise around for a reason!

Potter growled, showing teeth. "Make no mistake, she's _making_ me do this."

Draco immediately sobered. "Do what?" He didn't need to ask who 'she' was.

"Apologize. For attacking you." Potter actually looked pained. Fun! "I… may have acted rashly. _This_ time."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Then apologize."

"I just did!"

"Nah, that wasn't an apology. Tell her it's not accepted."

Potter almost looked like he was panicking at the prospect. "Look, she's actually really _mad_ at me, ok? She didn't say those things about you. I… misunderstood. She just seemed unhappy and I assumed you were to blame."

Draco's forehead creased in a thoughtful frown. "Unhappy? How? Why?"

"Here we go," Blaise muttered with an eye-roll. "I'd love to stick around for this very exciting rundown of how exactly Granger is feeling and why, but I have an actual life. So, bye." Then he was gone.

"That's none of your business, Malfoy," Potter said with a scowl.

"Fine. Then I'll just tell her how your apology was half-baked and insincere, shall I? Think that'll make her stop being mad at you?"

"You're the biggest git I ever met," Potter growled. They had a staring match for a few seconds, but then, surprisingly, Potter sighed. "I don't know; maybe you can figure it out. It was subtle. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was just... there. And then that day when Pansy Parkinson said those things to her, it became really… prominent for a little while."

"Well, Pansy was a bitch to her. Good on Granger for not letting Pansy know she was upset, though." And thank _God_, she hadn't truly been unaffected. That bit had bothered Draco more than he would like to admit.

"Yeah…" Potter muttered, sounding unconvinced. "Anyway, this is about as far as I will go. Now you tell her I apologized."

Draco waved him off, but then couldn't resist saying, "Hey, Potter?" When Potter turned around with another pained expression, Draco smirked and said, "Next time, try saying 'I'm sorry'. That's generally easier." Potter growled by way of reply before turning away again and Draco couldn't help but go, "Oh, and Potter?" once more. When Potter stiffly and slowly turned back for the second time, Draco beamed and asked, "How's your tadger?"

The sign language that Potter educated Draco in really wasn't very nice—although, if one was to take it as a literal reply it was actually _quite_ graphic—and he also looked as if he'd love to smash Draco's face in again. It really cheered Draco in a way nothing else could. If Potter wanted to hurt him then all was well in the world.

Well, almost all.

For the first time in a long while, Draco looked at the Gryffindor table. He generally tried not to look in that direction—figuring it might make Hermione uncomfortable if he stared too much—but right now he needed to make an allowance. A mere second after he located her, she looked up and their eyes met. She looked startled and… sorry. She only allowed the eye contact to be held for a couple of seconds, before she looked down and then glanced at Potter. When she peeked back at Draco a few minutes later and he caught her eye, she blushed at being caught looking at him again.

He got up and leisurely strolled out of the Great Hall.

"You know, I've been thinking," Blaise said from his position of leaning against the wall next to the doors.

"I thought you had a _life_," Draco drily said without stopping.

"I do." Blaise pushed away from the wall and followed. "But who am I kidding? Much of my life is devoted to helping you get one."

Draco snorted. He turned and began making his way down to the dungeons.

Blaise stayed next to him. "Sitting around, moping, because you want her but don't want to make any kind of effort to be with her is not only lazy, it's also _stupid_."

"I know," Draco responded.

"You need to _stop_ being stupid and try to overcome what's keeping you apart!" Blaise continued.

That made sense. "I know."

Blaise shook his head as if Draco had disagreed with him. "If she doesn't trust you, you need to _make_ her trust you. Figure out a way. Do whatever it takes!"

Draco's lips twitched a little as he fought the smile. "I know."

"No!" Blaise objected. "You need to _get_ her!"

Draco raised his hands. "_I know._" They made the final turn and were now facing the wall to their common room; Draco delivered the password and they entered.

"No, I mean, you need to _actually _make an effort to be with her," Blaise insisted. "Because, I hate to tell you this, but you simply don't have it in you to walk away. It might not work out, but at least then you can move on."

Draco sighed and sat down. "Relax, Blaise. I know. Really. I do." He wearily rubbed his face, trying not to think of all the ways this could fail.

"So, you _are_ going to do something about this?"

"Yes, as soon as I figure out what might work."

"Oh." Blaise paused, looking surprisingly put off. "And when did you decide this?"

"Just now in the Great Hall. There are these tiny hints that she might have _some_ positive feelings towards me. At least I think there may be enough to give me a shot if I manage to convince her of how much I want it."

And there, as they say, was the rub. Hermione Granger wasn't going to be readily convinced of any such thing, so he had to play this carefully. If he just barged in, he might only succeed in convincing her that he was trying to trick her again.

He needed a _plan_.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**"Propose to her?" Blaise suggested, looking like he actually meant it. "Nothing says 'I love you' like that."**

**Draco recoiled. "No! God, no!"**


	94. Chapter 94

**Hmm. Yeah. I'm kinda blank today. Nine parts to go.**

**Oh, Dramione Awards has moved into the voting phase. If you want to vote on Best of 2009, now is your last chance! In a little less than 2 weeks, it'll be too late. :) There's also a Draco Awards starting up. I'm not to crazy about the way they're organizing their categories (very pairing specific rather than just het/slash/gen), but if anyone is interested in knowing where to go look, I guess I can update my profile with a link to the LJ community. Just PM me or something, you don't have to review for it.**

* * *

"God, I hate you," Blaise exclaimed.

Draco did a semi-amused double-take. "I thought you wanted me to do something about things?"

"I did! I do! But couldn't you have had this epiphany yesterday or waited till _after_ my pitch?" Blaise plonked down in a plush armchair. "All that energy, just _wasted_."

"Sorry?" Draco wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out the appropriate response to being scolded for coming to the exact conclusion Blaise had wanted him to come to.

Blaise sighed dramatically. "It's fine. So, why did you change your mind?"

"I want her. I can't stand the thought of us all just leaving this place to go our separate ways without at least _trying_ to get her to see things my way. I really have nothing to lose."

"You've known that all along!"

"Yeah, I know that I've known, but it only just _hit_ me, you know? And I think I may have a chance if I do it right." Draco hoped his explanation wasn't too hard to follow. How _did_ you properly explain that you'd known something for a long time but hadn't truly realized what it meant? It was like knowing that someday you were going to die and then _realizing_ that someday you were going to _die_. It made all the difference in the world.

Blaise didn't look like he really understood. "Ok… and how do you do it right?"

"I don't know yet," Draco murmured. "There has to be a way."

Blaise did a hand wave. "Just tell her you're in love with her."

"No, that won't work. I've done that before. She'll think I'm lying or fooling myself or something."

"Give her a present?"

"Done that. She left it in my room. Besides, she's not going to be won over with _things_." No, that wasn't Hermione's style. Other girls might be bought with pretty trinkets or useless copied poems, but she wouldn't trust any such gesture from him and she certainly wasn't one to care about whether he was rich.

Which was fortunate, considering that with her, he wouldn't be.

"Propose to her?" Blaise suggested, looking like he actually meant it. "Nothing says 'I love you' like that."

Draco recoiled. "No! God, no!"

"You're going to have to marry her eventually if you want children."

"_Eventually_ being the key word here. I'm sure she'd want to wait years with that, so let's jump that bridge when we get there."

Blaise gave him a really strange look.

Draco scowled rather ineffectually. It couldn't be helped; he really wasn't about to talk marriage just yet. He was _seventeen_, for crying out loud! "Let's focus for a second here. _What_ would make her even consider being with me?"

"I don't know. The Imperius Curse?" Blaise said, smirking and leaning back.

"Thanks. That's encouraging." Draco ran his hands through his hair. Maybe it was true, though. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe he'd put too much stock in the fact that she'd forced Potter to apologize.

Maybe he should just spare himself the pain and _learn_ to walk away.

"Sorry," Blaise muttered. "Too soon, I guess. I do think you have a chance, but if you're serious, you need to _prove_ that you're serious."

"Yes, that's the point! But how?"

"You're really sure you don't want to propose?"

"Yes, I am _very_ sure about that! I'd want to see if we could even get along first. Besides, she'd say no. She's way too smart to jump headfirst into something that permanent with some git she may or may not fancy. And for the record, I think you're way too obsessed with matrimony."

Blaise shrugged and looked at some point in front of him. "I just never thought I _would_ marry. Certainly not that I'd _want_ it. But since I met Tracey, I can't stop thinking about how perfect my life would be if she would just stay with me. Forever."

"That's good, mate. _For you_." Draco had no intention of making that kind of fool of himself. Also, had he mentioned yet that he was only _seventeen_? While he didn't exactly want to be with any other witch, he didn't want that kind of commitment yet, either. What was more, he couldn't imagine that Hermione would want that. She would want to establish her independence before she tied herself to anybody, and then she would spend every day the rest of her life asserting that independence.

He had a weakness for witches that could hold their own.

Granted, mostly, he had a weakness for Hermione Granger.

"Come on, Draco. There has to be something that you know will prove to her that you aren't lying."

"The more I think about it, the less I see how I can convince her that I'm not just out to use and ridicule her." Draco's lips tightened. There had to be a way. There _had_ to.

"Just ask her out?" Blaise bluntly suggested.

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Ask her out!"

"How's that going to help?"

Blaise leaned forward, looking eager about sharing his Master Plan. "It shows that you want to go public with her. I know that there aren't many places to go before we leave here, but sit next to her in class, sit together at meals, study together after class, visit each other's rooms… that sort of thing."

"What, are you insane?" Draco frowned with disapproval and shook his head. This would be one sure way to ruin any chance he might have. "She's just going to believe I want to humiliate her publicly like when she was wearing the bracelet."

"I told you to go easier on her then," Blaise muttered.

"I _know_!" Draco kicked the table, making a spectacular noise as his foot connected with the wood and sent it sliding. "Don't you think I regret that? Don't you think I've suffered for it? Don't you think that I wish I'd been nicer to her so she wouldn't get that _look_ in her eyes whenever I'm around, like she's afraid of what I'm going to do to her next?"

Blaise sat up straighter and eyed the table as if Draco had never kicked the damn thing in a fit of temper before. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know," Draco muttered, burying his hands in his hair again. He really needed to get it cut. "I'm just… frustrated. I know I fucked it all up but I don't know how to fix it. I'm afraid that if I do the wrong thing I'll lose any chance I had with her forever. It's… stressful."

"Just tell her that," Blaise softly said. "Tell her everything."

Draco adamantly shook his head. "No! She fears that I'm out for the ultimate way to hurt her. I'm fairly sure that means she's afraid I'm going to try and make her fall in love with me so I can break her heart. Saying things like this… she would think the worst."

"That's messed up," Blaise muttered, sinking back in his chair with a thoughtful look.

"I know…."

"That negates almost everything you could do."

"I know! It's hopeless, isn't it?" Draco swallowed. He had to do something, but he just couldn't risk pushing her away again. Why was it so hard to be him?

Blaise was quiet for a while, which Draco took to mean that he agreed, but then Blaise suddenly frowned and said, "Maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… if you were to tell your mother about the two of you… that would mean you were serious, wouldn't it? Even Granger would have to recognize that."

Draco stared at Blaise. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. Someday, sure, but now? Yeah, why not. Hermione knew how protective he was of his mother. She knew he wouldn't lie to his mother just for some petty school vengeance.

Maybe it wasn't exactly brilliant, but it was by far the best suggestion yet.

"I'll do better than that," he hoarsely said. "I'll get Mother's blessing."

If that didn't do it, then truly nothing would.

* * *

It was a rather peaceful day, Hermione decided. Today, nothing had upset her. That was the mark of a good day. She was sitting on the common room sofa next to Ron and it was _nice_. Harry was sitting in an armchair, frowning on and off as if his thoughts were far, far away and Ginny sat on the floor, leaning against his legs while appearing to be doodling and reading a book.

"Malfoy doesn't really think I'm gay, does he?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking the companionable silence they'd had while—supposedly—studying.

"What?" Hermione asked with a small laugh she was unable to keep in before she coughed. "What would give you that idea?" Too late, she realized she didn't want to hear the answer. It had been days since anyone had even mentioned Draco and that was probably a big part of why this had been such a good day until now.

"I'll snog you in front of him if that'll help," Ginny said without looking up from her book as she turned another page.

"Thanks," Harry muttered. "It's just… I don't know… he always makes these jabs at me."

"Why do you care what Malfoy's saying?" Hermione asked curiously, unable to stop herself.

"Yeah, Harry. Is there something you're not telling us?" Ron barely had time to deliver his line before he had to duck from the quill Harry sent his way.

"I can assure you, he's not gay," Ginny calmly said.

Ron straightened up. "What? How?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." Ginny's lips quirked into a devious smile.

"That's it, Harry," Ron growled. "You're going to marry her—gay or not!"

"I am _not gay_!" Harry shouted.

There was a brief silence as everyone else in the common room stared at the group and then every member of that group save Harry burst into laughter.

"Well played, Ron!" Hermione said between giggles.

Ron grinned and draped his arm over her shoulder. "I know. It was so hard to keep a straight face."

"Really, Harry," Ginny said, shaking her head. "You're too easy. He's Malfoy. Just because he says something doesn't mean it's true. Also, you might try and work on that homophobia of yours."

"It makes this sudden insecurity of yours _very_ interesting," Ron added.

"Now, now," Hermione chastised. "If you don't play nice, I have to bring up the thing Draco said with Harry going out with the wrong Weasley."

"Oh, he said that to you too, did he?" Harry muttered, looking less than pleased.

Ron frowned. "But Ginny's my only sister, so that's—oh." Ron was looking so disgusted that Hermione had to cough again not to laugh.

"Well, I amdefinitely seeing the right Weasley," Harry announced, "and I would appreciate it if you'd tell him that, Hermione."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Why me?"

"Well, you're the one who talks to him, aren't you?" Harry muttered.

"No… I don't… we don't… talk." Hermione stared down into her book, trying to look unaffected. Way to kill her good spirits. It was fine, really. She was fine. Except when she wasn't. But that was only when she thought too much about it, so she tried to avoid thinking. No use feeling like… just no use _feeling_.

"Really?" Ginny asked, twisting around to look at Hermione. "Not even a little?"

"Well, I guess a very little bit," Hermione muttered. "If I run into him in the hall."

Except that the one time she had _literally_ run into him in the hall a couple of days ago, he'd just said sorry, asked if she was all right, and been on his merry way to the Owlery with what must have been either a _very_ important letter or a _very_ convenient excuse not to make chit chat.

Avoiding him wasn't necessary anymore. He seemed so preoccupied he barely even noticed her.

It was good. It really was. There was no hostility, no real awkwardness, no misunderstandings, just… nothing. Nothing was good. Nothing was…. Oh, who was she kidding? Nothing was awful. It was as if nothing at all had happened between them and she really, really resented that. Also, she was losing track of her 'nothing's. But while she could—sort of—admit all of this to herself, there was no point in letting anyone else know.

Things were as they were and they were going to stay that way.

* * *

As one day followed another, Hermione began to truly feel how not fine she was with the state of things. This was exacerbated by how everyone else began accepting that it was all done and her games with Malfoy were over. It had just been one of those meaningless things before they left school….

No! It hadn't been! Not entirely, at least. The first time had been his first time _ever_, that had to mean something, didn't it? And the last time had been… it had been… well, it had been good, didn't that count?

She supposed not. She hardly knew what was going on in her own head. This should not be so difficult to get past.

But it was.

No matter how much she tried to rationalize, to chastise herself, to pretend it was all ok… it just _wasn't_. She wanted it to matter. And it drove her insane. It was too late for that now. She could make next time be with someone where it would matter, but she couldn't go back and change what had already happened!

It hadn't mattered to either of them at the time, so it didn't matter now. Full stop.

She saw Malfoy all the time and he didn't seem to be bothered in the least. In fact, he seemed to be rather cheerful. A few times he'd even smiled at her, but they never exchanged more than a couple of sentences at the most. He didn't even seem to want to. He seemed… busy.

Not that she was watching him.

He was often seen jotting down notes during meals while talking to—and laughing with—Zabini or even Parkinson. He didn't really seem to talk to Astoria Greengrass in any capacity that mattered, though, so it couldn't be… that… could it? Nah, if he were organizing some kind of union, the witch would probably want to take part in it.

In any case, he was moving on with his life.

So Hermione smiled and studied and socialized with her friends and pretended that she was all right.

What else could she do?

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**Blaise was staring. Draco _hated_ it when Blaise was staring. "_What_?" he snarled at his annoying friend.**

**Blaise shrugged. "Nothing. Just trying to memorize what a perfect idiot looks like."**


	95. Chapter 95

**I really abuse italics in this story. And that's _after_ I removed a ton during my editing phases.**

**Soon this fic will be over and I'll have nowhere to write A/Ns pimping all sorts of things. I'll miss writing my A/Ns. At least I'll still have my LJ. You should check that out. It's the one place where I'll sort-of-kind-of reliably pimp out everything I write. Soonish I'll find somewhere to post a 25k word Pansy/Blaise fic with background D/Hr that kind of screws up all of Pansy's plans for herself. :P It's really very, very dysfunctional, come to think of it. Putting warnings on that thing to avoid triggering people will be a nightmare. Oh, look! That's me pimping stuff I didn't even completely finish yet! Here's to me finishing that project tonight so I can get back to the D/Hr fic I wanted to write in honour of Draco's 30th birthday which really should begin posting around then, creating an overlap with Bracelet if that happens. Hrm. Don't say I'm not prolific. And don't worry, I plan on working on every project I _promised_ to deliver this summer.  
**

* * *

Draco eagerly unfolded the parchment, skimmed it, and then punched the wall, crumpling the note, barely registering the physical pain through his disappointment. This little project of his wasn't going so well and it was going _slowly_. He was going to run out of time before he managed to see it through.

He was also well aware that the longer he left Hermione to her own devices, the greater the risk that she would get over whatever feelings she might have for him.

Blaise kept saying that at least Draco had _told_ his mother and that the proof of this should be enough. Maybe he was right. But Draco just _really_ wanted to somehow be able to show Hermione that if she gave him a chance, everything would be all right. Nothing would be in their way.

Only, his mother had different ideas. She was _not_ happy with Draco's 'infatuation' and in the few letters she'd managed to get to him in the past few weeks, she kept alternating between asking him if he was sure, pleading with him to think of his family, and threatening to cut him off.

He really couldn't show those letters to Hermione. Hermione would only give him that annoying, understanding look and tell him that he wouldn't want to go through with something against his mother's wishes.

He was _very_ prepared to go against his mother's wishes. True, he didn't really believe she would cut him off, but even if she did… he couldn't spend the rest of his life sacrificing his own happiness because his Mum told him to.

"Look who we have here!"

Draco looked up, disoriented for a moment, and then recalled that he'd only barely left the Great Hall. And… was that the girl Weasley, actually _talking_ to him? "I'm not in the mood," he said and turned his back on her.

"Oi!" Ginny Weasley sharply said, sounding thoroughly irritated. "Don't be such a rude git! I want to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, and why would I talk to you?" he asked, looking down at the crumpled parchment in his hands and then pressing it into a ball. He wouldn't be needing this for anything. On second thought, though.... He put the ball in his pocket. At least this could be proof that he _tried_ if it came to that. He really hoped it wouldn't. His mother said some fairly nasty things about Hermione and her 'kind' in this letter—things he hoped Hermione would never read.

"You slept with her and then you ignored her," Weasley said. "This means we'd usually get to beat you bloody. Alas, she told us not to. But now we just want to know whether you'll be your usual pratty self or if you'll actually be a human being."

Draco rolled his eyes and began walking towards the dungeons. "You don't get to threaten me. _She_ wanted a one-off."

"Don't you mean two-off?"

He honestly couldn't help the smirk that spread across his features. "Who's counting?"

Suddenly Weasley was in his way. "Cute," she drily said. "But when are you going to do something about it? It's been so _long_. Fortunately, we didn't tell her this, but we all thought you'd have done something by now!"

Draco leaned forwards, fully intending to tell her to bugger off, but at the last second, he changed his mind. These people were—rather unfortunately—a part of Hermione's life, even though they did seem to be cultivating a strange form of hive mind. He couldn't exactly afford to get on their worst side. "Does she care?" he instead asked.

Weasley snorted. "I am _not_ boosting your ego, Malfoy."

"Then don't tell me about all those secret little fantasies you have about me. Just tell me: does _she_ care?"

Weasley narrowed her eyes at him. "I really don't like you," she stated. "Do you think I would be wasting my time here if I didn't think that she had a… a thing… about you?"

"She does have a thing. She likes that I'm easy to get into bed whenever she feels like it. But I'm done being her toy."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy! You really think Hermione is that superficial?"

"Why not? Everyone else is." He gave her a very telling look that said he knew what she'd been up to in the past.

She must have got the message, because her cheeks went pink. "No, Zabini is. The rest of us just have bad judgment sometimes."

"Ouch, hit a nerve, did I?"

Weasley's lips tightened. "Fine. We will assume that nothing more will happen. Personally, I still hope to get her for a sister-in-law. Harry would like that to happen too, and I know that Ron still fancies her. Then we can all be a family."

How cozy and neatly paired off that would be. "If you have that all figured out, then why talk to me in the first place?"

"_Because_—" Weasley had an expression of supreme annoyance on her face "—Hermione's happiness takes precedence. And what if it turns out she wanted you? She's not being very open about the subject. It's all up to you whether you're going to try and see if she wants you or not. If you aren't, then how she really feels doesn't matter anyway, does it?"

Draco could only imagine why Hermione was hiding her true thoughts and feelings behind a wall. But that had to mean there was something worth hiding, right? Something she felt could humiliate her if she let even her best friends know? "I'm… working on it," he said and, without elaborating, he went around Weasley and down to the dungeons.

His next owl had better get the response he hoped for. Acceptance or no acceptance, he couldn't afford to wait much longer.

* * *

Blaise was staring. Draco _hated_ it when Blaise was staring. "_What_?" he snarled at his annoying friend.

Blaise shrugged. "Nothing. Just trying to memorize what a perfect idiot looks like."

"Give me a break, would you? I'm _working_ on it!" Draco scowled and returned to his schoolwork. He'd known it was a mistake to do it in the common room rather than at the library, but _she_ might be at the library and if she were, he wouldn't get anything done.

Not that this was much better.

"You're procrastinating, that's what you're doing," Blaise announced, annoying Draco further. "Your mother's attitude isn't what's going to make the difference for her: _Your_ attitude is. And if she's not interested anymore… then your mother's blessing won't change that."

Draco snorted. " 'Anymore'."

"She was interested and you know it. But now you're afraid you blew it with her. The longer you wait, the more likely that's going to be, you know."

Draco carefully studied his own fingernails so he wouldn't have to look at Blaise. Blaise was right, sort of. Except Draco's mind was a lot more confused than that. It was filled with dread and hope all at once. He could go from being sure she wanted him to being sure she didn't within the blink of an eye. He'd been _this_ close to approaching her a few times already, but each time he'd lost his nerve and found some excuse to postpone it.

He didn't want to _know_. He didn't want to risk having to go through what was left of the year knowing that he had, in fact, done _everything_ he possibly could to prove his feelings to her and that it hadn't made a lick of difference.

So, yes, he was scared. But Blaise wouldn't understand.

"Just be honest," Blaise insisted. "And if that doesn't work, wear her down. She knows you aren't as bad as you've tried to pretend."

Draco scowled. He hated it when Blaise said things about Hermione, acting as if he regularly talked with her. As if he liked her now. "Would you sleep with her?"

Had he actually asked that? The way Blaise was staring at him suggested yes.

"What?" Blaise finally croaked.

Oh, well. Draco might as well just go with it. Ever since Hermione had pulled his leg by claiming Blaise had taken her virginity, Draco had had this occasional… irrational anger towards his friend. Maybe this could vent a bit of it. "If you didn't have Tracey, would you sleep with Hermione?"

"I… _what_? No! I don't even—no!" Blaise looked absolutely appalled.

Draco considered Blaise's reaction. On one hand, it was good he seemed so shocked at the question, but on the other hand…. "You don't find her attractive?"

Blaise's gaze flickered as he spotted that trap. "She's not my type, that's for sure. And then there's the tiny detail of _you_."

"What about me?"

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"I did it to Theo."

"No, you didn't. You were in love with her. You wouldn't have touched her otherwise."

Draco pursed his lips. He'd done lots of things with Hermione before he'd been in love with her, but he wasn't going to go that much into detail. "So no?"

"No! Of course not! What's got into you, Draco?"

Draco blushed. What was he going to say? Hermione had teased him a little bit one time, and now he was a jealous git for no reason at all? "Nothing," he muttered.

Blaise frowned. "It's curious. You never even once worried that I might touch Pansy."

"Well, of course you wouldn't."

"Why? Because _you_ wouldn't?"

Draco considered for a second. "No. Because I just knew." Draco did realize the slight absurdity of trusting Blaise with one girl but not another. Maybe it was because Draco had never cared the same way about Pansy. Or maybe it was because Draco had known something about how much Blaise respected and cared about Pansy—as a _friend_. Not even Blaise would muddle that up with sex.

As cryptic as that statement was, it was enough. "Yeah…" Blaise muttered. "All right. But if you ever again imply I would do such a thing, I'll have to beat you. And I'll do a better job of it than Potter did."

Draco snorted. Not because he didn't believe Blaise would do it, but because he did believe he would. "Noted."

At least he'd managed to divert Blaise's attention from the original subject. For a while.

* * *

Hermione almost ran down the stairs. She was late. Crud. She'd dallied for too long over her lunch and then she'd forgotten a book in her room.

Forgetting your books when you lived in a tower off the seventh floor and were supposed to go to a class in the dungeons was _not_ very smart. She had to get her head out of the clouds and begin to _pay attention_, damn it!

And here she'd been so proud that she still managed to keep up with all of her schoolwork in spite of not feeling quite up to it lately. For weeks she'd managed to be completely normal. But now she was _late_. Late, late, late! She hated the thought of being late. It didn't fit with the image that she wanted to project of herself.

Also, everyone would look at her when she entered the room. _He_ would look at her. And they'd wonder why she was late, why she'd forgotten her books, why she was losing it.

And if they knew, they would pity her.

No, she was not overreacting at all!

She took the last few steps of this particular staircase in one jump and sped around a corner, only to bump into something unyielding and almost fall on her bottom. She would have fallen if the other person hadn't had good enough reflexes to catch her.

Oh, _crud_, she'd done that a few times lately as well. She forgot to look where she was going, and before she knew it, she'd knocked some poor unsuspecting first year—or herself—on their arse. She had even run into Malfoy that one time, but he'd barely noticed—

"I'm beginning to think you're doing this on purpose."

Hermione stiffened and then very slowly glanced up at him, only to quickly look anywhere but his face. Malfoy. Looking amused. _There is no God_. She swallowed. "No… I'm just… in a hurry…" she muttered, the words tripping over each other. "Class started. Aren't you supposed to be there?"

Yes, what was he doing going in the opposite direction when she knew _very well_ that he needed to be in Potions too?

When she looked up again, Malfoy's eyes flashed with something that looked like annoyance—oh, good, she'd annoyed him! Would she ever learn to shut up?—and then he lifted his chin as if in defiance. "Not today. I'm not in the mood to tolerate that elitist old tosser."

"Oh." So he was skiving. She supposed that shouldn't surprise her very much. Belatedly, she realized she hadn't stepped back and, trying to hide her flaming cheeks, she did just that, instantly feeling cold. There was a slight tug as she removed her arms from his grip. Apparently he hadn't thought about their position either. "Well, I still have to, so…."

"Wait!"

She stopped and looked at him in puzzlement. What now? "Yes?" she asked with a small frown.

"You're really late, you know. If you go down there now, you'll just be disrupting class."

"I'll be very quiet."

"You could come with me? We could entertain each other? I, um, I have something I wanted to talk to you about anyway."

Hermione's eyes widened. He wanted to… _hang out_? With her? That would be… awful. She could just imagine it. "No, I… I really want to do well on my NEWTs."

"You already know you'll do brilliantly."

"I want to do better."

He actually looked disappointed, maybe even a little dejected. "Fine. Have fun." He turned away from her and began walking away.

"Yeah, you too…" Hermione mumbled, also turning her back. These little exchanges always made her feel extremely uncomfortable; her stomach always knotted up and no matter how hard she tried, she could never come up with anything even remotely interesting to say to him.

She simply couldn't relax around him anymore. She was afraid that if she did… he'd see.

She resumed her brisk walk, but she hadn't taken more than a couple of steps before she heard him call out from behind her. She almost stumbled—_damn it_—before she reluctantly turned back.

"It's not fine," he said, the words rushing out as he stepped towards her. "I really do need to talk to you, Hermione. Please. I have something… we _need_ to talk!" His eyes… they were looking directly into hers and scaring her. Not because they were menacing but… just because.

She involuntarily took a step backwards. "Not now. Class." She was running away. They both knew it. But she _couldn't_.

If he heard the panicked rejection, he was being remarkably stoic about it. "Then meet me later. Tonight. In your office?"

She couldn't breathe. He knew. He must know. She hadn't hidden it well enough. "Is it really necessary—?"

"Yes. It is." He didn't look like he was going to back down. He wouldn't leave her alone until he had his way. And it was 'just' a conversation. She could do this.

She hoped.

"Fine," she almost whispered. "I'll be there at nine. Can't before."

"That's fine."

She turned around and ran, glad she had the pretense of being late for class. But she never went to the Potions class. Instead she found an empty classroom and spent the next hour trying to control her own breathing and telling herself she was overreacting.

She had to be overreacting.

He didn't mean to go in for the kill. He didn't work or think like that anymore. He wasn't a cold-hearted, cruel, sadistic bastard who wanted nothing more than to see her suffer.

She was _almost_ certain of this.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**"I… you're right… no! Damn it, I can't do it like this!" Draco jumped up and began pacing. "This isn't how I wanted it."**

**"How?"**

**"With all the bickering and such."**

**"Then stop it!"**

**He stopped his pacing and looked at her for a long moment. "Tell me something, Hermione," he finally softly said. "Do you even like me at all?"**


	96. Chapter 96

**In response to any obligatory "OMG this chapter was shorter than the rest" review (which I happen to get every single chapter -- seriously, we almost bet money on when we'll get the one for that chapter!) -- this one is actually longer. Too long to fit the mould, although only by a couple hundred words. That happens a few times in the last chapters.**

**I'm tired and feeling unwell, so my edits may have been a bit sloppy this time around. Sorry.  
**

* * *

Draco paced his room. He couldn't sit still and he couldn't tolerate others trying to talk to him right now. Especially not Blaise. Blaise was such a nuisance, always meddling, thinking he knew what was going on. He didn't know anything; he just assumed that Hermione could be persuaded. He thought all girls could be persuaded.

No. Draco couldn't stand another pep talk right now. He just needed to see _her_.

Except, he was even sort of doubting that decision. When Hermione had run into him and blushed and looked at him with those big brown eyes, it had seemed like the best idea in the world to let it all out. When she'd refused to skive off with him, it had seemed like a worse idea, but he'd still convinced himself that it was had to be done today. After she'd finally agreed to meet with him tonight, however, she'd visibly panicked and he was left thinking that maybe it was still too soon. He was running out of time, though. If they left school before he worked up the courage to talk to her, it would be too late. It would be impossible to get close enough to her to bring her around to his way of thinking.

But she knew what conversation was coming and she didn't want it, that much had been obvious.

The thought was discouraging, but he needed to just push on. He couldn't just sit around and do nothing forever. She needed to know how he felt. He was becoming almost too adept at hiding his true feelings and it was counter-productive. She still didn't even seem to realize how hard it had been for him to allow her to leave after the last time they'd slept together.

He needed to not come on too strongly, though. The intensity of his emotions scared even himself and would be sure to send Hermione running if he let them loose.

It just had to be tonight. It _had_ to. Today he'd finally got a grudging acceptance from his mother that she'd be willing to consider the possibility of him perhaps being temporarily somewhat involved with a Muggleborn.

It didn't get any better than that from her, Draco could tell, and he _needed_ as much time as possible to soften Hermione and bring her around to his way of thinking. With NEWTs and everything, having just under a month would probably just barely be enough—and this was provided she was even receptive to his advances. If it worked out, he would have to bring his mother fully around later.

There was a knock at his door and Draco groaned. Not _now_.

Reluctantly, he went to open it.

It was Theo, hardly looking up from some pieces of parchment. "Been some changes to your rounds tonight; Tara Stanwood will be coming instead of...." He shuffled the parchment around a bit and frowned. "Whoever. Too many damn names since we included detentionees. Be nice to her."

_Fuck!_ Rounds. He had them. From sometime before nine to way after. He had to cancel with Hermione.

What was he thinking? He couldn't cancel with Hermione! What kind of message would _that_ send? And the way she had bolted… she wasn't very likely to give him another shot any time soon.

"I can't do them," Draco blurted out.

"Too late," Theo coldly said without looking up. "I'm not about to find a last-minute replacement for you." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Draco reached out and grabbed Theo's sleeve. "Just this once. I'll owe you. I'll do _five_ other rounds."

"No."

Draco opened his mouth to beg, but then changed his mind and shrugged. "I'm not going. That's non-negotiable. I am, however, willing to negotiate how to make up for that." He crossed his arms over his chest and pasted on a haughty smirk.

"I'll report you."

"Fine."

Theo finally looked up, narrowing his eyes. "It'll lower your chances with Hermione. She won't like you leaving everyone hanging like this."

"By then it won't matter." Draco sincerely doubted that his chances depended on whether he did tonight's rounds.

Theo looked pensive for a moment. "It's not just about avoiding Stanwood because she drives you insane with her incessant yammering?"

Draco almost grinned. It could have been. Stanwood was _really_ annoying. Hermione tended to try to pair Draco up with Stanwood whenever she was cross with him. Which was basically always. Draco was pretty much alone in being unamused by that. Some nights he'd almost swear that he temporarily lost his hearing on one ear. Stanwood was _that_ bad. "No, I'm… having a talk with Hermione. About… about things. I hope."

Theo raised an eyebrow. "She should know your schedule."

"Must have slipped her mind."

"Or she doesn't actually _want_ this talk…."

That too closely echoed Draco's fears. "Thanks. But I'm still not doing the rounds."

"Don't worry," Theo said, looking back down at his parchments. "I'll do them."

Draco couldn't help but stare at Theo. "You will?" Why the hell would he do that?

"Yes. But you _will_ owe me and if I don't like what I hear about this 'talk' of yours, I'll take my payment from your hide."

"That sounds fair enough."

Theo bared his teeth. "And I'll do a better job of it than Potter did," he said, before he left.

Everyone seemed to be making that threat lately. It really wasn't that amusing.

Draco reminded himself that he needed to get back at Potter. Soon.

* * *

Hermione dragged her feet to the meeting with Draco. She _really_ didn't want to have it. She didn't know what he was up to, didn't know what he wanted from her, didn't know _anything_. That was fine, really; she didn't want to find out! She just wanted to be left alone with her schoolwork and her friends and… and not have to do this.

She arrived to an empty office and looked at the clock. Five to nine. Damn it! Even with all the feet-dragging, she was punctual. Early, even. Now, wouldn't it be fun if he didn't show at all?

She shuffled over to a plush armchair and sat down. Well, nothing to do but wait. She had committed to being here at nine for a conversation and nobody could ridicule her for being here on those premises. Maybe if she were still waiting for him in two hours they could, but she wouldn't be. She'd leave long before that. She'd give him half an hour. If he wasn't here by then, that would speak volumes in and of itself, wouldn't it?

She settled to stare at the clock. Four minutes to nine… one minute past nine… three minutes past nine… maybe she should just go now? He was late. Wasn't that enough?

The door opened and she scrambled to her feet.

"Good, you're here," he said. Was that relief? Or triumph? Ugh. She wished she could trust him.

"I said I would be," she coolly said. "I, on the other hand, wasn't sure about whether you'd come here or actually do your rounds instead."

He scowled at her as he came in and closed the door behind himself. "You could have reminded me I had those."

"You could have traded them for all I know. And I'm not your mother—figure out your own schedule!"

He raised his eyebrows at her, looking a bit surprised. Ok, she might have been a bit aggressive. Offense was the best defense and all that. He hadn't deserved it, but she refused to apologize. He'd done so much worse so many times. So, instead, she raised her chin and squared her shoulders.

He leaned against the door and looked at her thoughtfully. "Theo tried to pair me with Tara Stanwood," he said. "You both really enjoy tormenting me, don't you?"

Hermione couldn't help the smile that formed before she could squash it. Oh, damn. But it _was_ funny how chagrined one overly friendly Hufflepuff witch could make Draco Malfoy. "I don't know what you mean," she said, knowing that her innocent face didn't pass the test.

He was looking down at his feet, his lips quirking a bit with involuntary humor and Hermione suddenly decided that the task of sitting back down required all of her attention. She couldn't look at him when he seemed so… normal. It made her remember things that were best left forgotten. And forget things that were best remembered.

Like the fact that he could be cruel. Very, very cruel.

"I'm glad to amuse," he was murmuring.

She hated the way he murmured. It gave her this warm, rather churning feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She wished it wouldn't. "That's new," she said. "You're usually terribly upset if anyone is amused at your expense. Anyone else is fair game." _Especially me._

"Well, that should tell you something, shouldn't it?" He looked straight at her now.

"Oh, that's the kind of conversation you had in mind?" she asked, feeling her aggressive defenses slip back into place and hating that they did. "I know there have been some changes. I'm glad. I hope you'll be less of a bigoted prat than your… your ancestors."

"My father, you mean." He said this coolly. Precisely. Matter-of-factly.

"I was hoping to not get that personal," she muttered, looking away.

"What's not personal about this?" he argued.

She was unable to back down, though. Always unable to back down around him. She clenched her jaw.

He glared at her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Telling you how I see things?" This was almost unbearable. She wanted out of there.

He stalked towards her and Hermione was sorry she'd chosen to sit back down. She was at a disadvantage, but jumping up would let him know that she was unnerved. Damn.

Trying to pretend she was unaffected, she said, "I do hope the change is permanent, though."

He stopped and stared at her and then it was as if he deflated. "Of course you do. It's the kind of person you are, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

He looked away. "Must be hard to be that perfect."

"I never said I was perfect."

"It was strongly implied," he bitterly shot back.

She shook her head. "I've done a lot of things I regret."

"Like sleeping with me?" The question was very quiet and vulnerable. She could easily say _yes_, and if she did, she felt that he would probably go away and release her from this extremely uncomfortable conversation.

But that would be cruel and untrue. She found it hard to say _no_, though, so she simply looked away, refusing to answer.

"Come on, Granger," he harshly prodded. "Don't spare my feelings _now_. Just get it off your chest. I'm sure you've been itching to tell me."

"Did you want to meet me here to fight?" she asked instead of answering.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "As hard as it may be to believe… no. Quite the opposite."

She frowned. The opposite…? Her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"No, not 'oh'," he growled, looking very tired. "Definitely not 'oh'."

"Oh." Hermione blushed, feeling a little silly. "I… didn't really think so," she muttered.

"Then what did you think?" he asked. "Really, honestly, what did you think I wanted when I asked you to come here?"

"I don't know."

"You must have thought something."

She shrugged. "The way you seem to be moving on with your life… I'd guess… forgiveness?"

"Forgiveness?" He stared at her.

"Only, by your reaction it looks like it never crossed your mind." She looked away, embarrassed to have thought he might have regretted his past behavior.

"No, I just thought…" He looked genuinely confused. "I thought I'd made up for it as best as I could and certainly didn't think that me pulling you aside and _apologizing_ would make any difference by now. Or maybe I've made some new terrible offense that I'm unaware of?"

Hermione shook her head. He was misunderstanding her. Again. "No, I didn't mean in any _literal_ sense. More like it would be some token gesture that would make you able to move on with your life without ever again having to bother thinking about the times you tormented me."

He plonked down in the armchair next to hers and sighed, looking tired again. "If it all were only that easy…."

"But it is." Hermione drew in a deep breath. Now was the time to show that she didn't always have to be defensive around him. She knew what he needed to hear from her. "You were a different person back then. You've grown. I don't think you could find it in yourself to be that cruel to anyone again. I'm not holding any of it against you anymore."

"Truly?" He sounded highly skeptical.

"Truly."

He watched her for a minute before saying, "I don't believe you."

Hermione gaped. "What?" she sputtered. "You can't just say you don't believe me!"

"But I don't."

So much for trying to be nice. "Fine. Then don't." She crossed her arms and scowled.

"If you didn't hold it against me any longer," he said as if he hadn't noticed her pouting, "your whole demeanor should change. You shouldn't be so wary and on edge around me. Look at you! You're sitting on the edge of your seat, you flinch whenever I make a sudden movement, and you glance at the door every ten seconds!"

"That's not—"

"It's because you're still afraid of me and you know it. What's worse is that _I_ know it too and I'm sick of it, but what am I supposed to do about it?"

"You could try not _yelling_ at me!"

"I'm not yelling _at_ you! I'm… frustrated…." He covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry," he then muttered. "Didn't mean to yell."

"And I'm not afraid of you," she felt obliged to point out.

He snorted and let his hands drop. "Yeah. You are."

"No! I'm… nervous… because…." Her voice faded out and she made a 'you know' gesture.

"Because what?" he asked, ignoring the gesture. Annoying git.

"Because I never know what you want."

"Because you expect the worst."

"No!"

"Yes."

"You're impossible."

"So are you."

Hermione scowled. "Because you confuse me!"

"Yeah, and you're not confusing at all!" Draco laughed in a way that was more sad than funny.

"But I'm not the one who—who—"

"Who what?"

"Who asked me to meet him here!"

"Oh, that was clever. Quite the comeback." He rolled his eyes.

Hermione's hackles rose a little bit. "It wasn't _supposed_ to be a clever comeback! You asked me to meet you here and I _still_ don't know why!"

"Oh. That." Suddenly Draco looked more than a little bit embarrassed.

"What is it you want, then?" she quietly asked.

"I don't know."

Hermione crinkled her nose in part confusion and part annoyance. "What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

"I mean that I don't know!"

"You must have had a reason!"

"I did. I'm just not sure it's a very good reason anymore!" Draco was looking very harassed for someone who had been asked a very simple question.

"Well, if it was good enough to make me come here, it's good enough to tell me, so spit it out!"

"I… you're right… no! Damn it, I can't do it like this!" Draco jumped up and began pacing. "This isn't how I wanted it."

"How?"

"With all the bickering and such."

"Then stop it!"

He stopped his pacing and looked at her for a long moment. "Tell me something, Hermione," he finally softly said. "Do you even like me at all?"

* * *

Draco's heart was thundering so loudly that he could barely hear what Hermione said, which was probably just the same. He'd probably used the wrong tactics to procrastinate, but she tended to forget that she was 'nervous' around him whenever she got annoyed with him.

"I… I don't know how to respond to that," she said.

"How about the truth?" Yes, asking for the truth was smart. Especially considering how that truth would probably crush him.

She looked away. "Whether I do or not, I have no real _reason_ to like you! None at all! You've verbally abused me for years and as soon as you got the chance, you physically abused me for weeks. I can do my best to forgive it, but forgetting it is _much_ harder. Even when I begged for it, you had no mercy, none whatsoever—you _felt_ my pain and humiliation and you didn't care! Not one whit!"

He flinched at the too true accusations. So much for being past it. "I cared…" he softly insisted.

"Well, you didn't show it very well. In fact, it wasn't until the magic affected _you_ that I saw a change and then it was as if you were obsessed with me!"

"To be fair, I was always a little obsessed…" he said, unable to keep a self-deprecating smile from forming.

"_This is not funny!_" She jumped to her feet and glared at him. "Don't you dare laugh at me!"

He straightened, giving him the advantage of height, although her anger still made her formidable. "You slept with me _after_ all this happened. You must have been attracted to me."

"You don't want me to comment on that."

"Yes, I do!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, I was physically attracted to you. And I saw your obsession and in a vulnerable moment I wanted to know what it would be _like_ to have someone be that intense about me."

That was all he'd been good for? Some ego-soothing? Truth certainly did hurt, but Draco was determined not to show it. He'd known his chances were slim at best. "So you used me."

"And you used me!"

He didn't comment on that statement. She believed it to be true and she wouldn't believe him if he denied it.

"What about the second time, then? You already knew what it would be like, so why bother?"

Hermione hesitated. "Yes…" she muttered, frowning as if she didn't quite understand it herself. "I guess I liked it?" She shrugged. "But it ended up being different anyway."

"Different, how?"

She turned her gaze on him and the wounded look in them was like a punch to his gut. Something was buried here. Something that had hurt her. If nothing else, he could do his best to soothe that hurt because _nothing_ about last time should make her feel that way. It had been perfect. She had been perfect.

"Different how?" he quietly asked again.

Hermione's eyes lowered as in defeat and she opened her mouth to speak, but just then, the door slammed open, diverting her attention and Draco had to clench his jaw not to let out the string of curses going through his mind.

"Theo!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise and… relief?

"Damn it, Theo!" Draco growled.

Theo's lips twisted sardonically. "Sorry," he muttered. "My drama beats your drama." He straightened and moved his handkerchief-wrapped hand that had been pressed to his left side to reveal a rather large red stain.

Hermione gasped and immediately ran to Theo's side.

"You just _had_ to outdo me, didn't you?" Draco grumbled.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**Draco pursed his lips at Theo's words of choice to describe the pain. "Always so eloquent."**

**"Give me a break," Theo growled. "I was just stabbed by a fifth-year Hufflepuff girl."**

**Draco couldn't help but laugh. Put like that… he was glad it hadn't been him. Living that kind of stigma down would be _impossible_.**


	97. Chapter 97

**I've a backlog of PMs and such again. Don't take it personally if I fail to respond. I probably just meant to do it later and then forgot. Sometimes things get a little hectic.**

**I posted a Blaise/Pansy story called _Pure Depravity_ on my LJ community kittyfics and AO3. Check it out. Neither place require you to sign up/log in to read or comment. It's not appropriate for FFnet, so it won't be posted here.**

* * *

"I'm fine," Theo said, and then again to Hermione trying to get a good look at him, "I'm _fine_. She was rather inept with a knife. I took the brunt of the stab with my hand and she was too quick to drop the knife to be efficient. It's really little more than a scratch. Madam Pomfrey will easily fix it."

"She?" Draco asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Stanwood," Theo said. "She expressed her deepest regrets that she couldn't stab _you_. Remind me never to do your rounds again."

"He has that effect on people," Hermione murmured as she satisfied her own need to make sure that Theo wasn't down-playing his own injury. Draco scowled at her.

Theo grinned and then winced a little bit, grasping his side again. "I _was_ on my way to the Hospital Wing. Someone else needs to tell Dumbledore."

"That we have a stabber?" Draco asked. "She's not going to get far. Pomfrey will report it." He was being an unfeeling git, and so what? He wanted Hermione to himself so they could finish this very important conversation!

"Your concern and sacrifice on my part warms my heart," Theo drily said. "Especially considering the knife was meant for you. But that's not really it. She, um, claimed that Death Eaters will be trying to enter the castle again."

"And it only occurred to you to tell us that _now_?" Hermione sharply interrupted.

Draco and Theo both stared blankly at her for a moment. "Priorities, Granger," Draco then said. "They don't always come in _your_ order. Most of us rank personal injury as number one." The glare she sent him he could have lived without. "But they can't enter," he said to Theo. "The Vanishing Cabinet has been relocated and the security around here is ridiculously strict."

"She indicated that they didn't bet on just one horse this time. In fact, she said that _several_ students were doing their part in getting the Death Eaters in to finally finish off 'the old codger'. I couldn't really decipher all of her mad babble but it appears that a couple of Ravenclaws managed to get past the defenses and open the gates, and they will be letting in an army of Death Eaters tonight…."

"Talk about House Unity," Hermione muttered. "A Hufflepuff would-be murderess and Ravenclaws letting in mayhem. The world has gone mad! Or maybe Stanwood has. How do we even know it's true?"

"Yes, too bad your world couldn't stay neatly black and white," Theo said. "And we don't. But I'm bleeding here and you need to tell Dumbledore, just in case." He faltered a bit, frowning and grasping his side tighter. He looked most of all surprised, even as he was going paler.

Apparently Mr. Mysterious-And-All-Knowing hadn't realized that the pain could get worse as the wound remained open and untreated. Hah! So much for common sense.

Instantly, Hermione was at Theo's side. "Right. I'll get you to the Hospital Wing. Draco can warn Dumbledore."

Draco scowled at the too cozy scene before him. "Bad idea, Hermione," he said before he could think it through.

"He's right," Theo surprisingly agreed, regaining his composure. "He let in a group of Death Eaters as well as a mad werewolf last year. The Headmaster has no reason to trust him."

Damn! Draco didn't need a reminder of last year and Hermione _certainly_ didn't. "I'll get Theo to the Hospital Wing. You warn all those goody-goodies that there may be baddies afoot," he said.

"Yes, you're right, Harry should know." Hermione looked surprised that she'd forgotten all about her friend. "He certainly wouldn't believe you, so I'll go."

"Great," Draco muttered, feeling decidedly ill-tempered and non-too-gently sliding Theo's good arm around his own shoulder and beginning to yank him out into the hall.

"That's really not necess—"

"Shut up!" Draco growled. "Do you have any idea how many times I've brought someone else to the Hospital Wing this year? I'm not going up there looking anything less than _innocent_ and caring. So just lean and stop talking."

Hermione brushed past them, but then stopped a few paces ahead and turned around. "Draco…" she hesitantly said.

"Yeah?" he asked, still feeling crabby and not stopping his own and Theo's slow walk.

"Once you get to the Hospital Wing with Theo, don't come back out. Stay there until I tell you it's safe."

"That's an odd request if I ever heard one, Granger," he said with a frown, stopping as he reached her and she didn't seem inclined to move. It was such a _long_ way around her. Besides, he wasn't overly concerned with Theo's health right at that moment. He could bleed to death for all he cared.

Hermione raised her chin in that way that told Draco she wasn't going to back down. That probably shouldn't turn him on, considering he was all but embracing _Theo_ at the moment.

"I'm only saying this once, so pay attention," Hermione crisply stated. "Your father was never caught again so if there's anything to this, he might be here. You can't fight unless you pick a side. Picking a side could mean _killing_ someone. You would either have to decide to potentially commit patricide or to potentially kill… um…."

What a telling hesitation. She couldn't name herself?

"You _can't_ make that decision lightly," she continued with a slight blush, "and, quite frankly, you can't make that decision tonight, there's not enough time. So if you put yourself in the middle of the situation, you might just get yourself killed in some stupid way or another. It would be distracting and stressful to try and keep track of you. So _stay away_ and we'll all stand a better chance."

So, basically, he would be useless? Worse than useless? Her high opinion of him was certainly warming.

No, that wasn't fair. She was right. If put in the situation of having to kill one person he cared about to save another person he cared about, he wouldn't be able to do it. He _was_ useless. All he would be good for was dying for somebody in order to stall someone else and he didn't quite fancy doing that.

"What about you?" he asked. "You going to stay out of trouble?" Fat chance.

"No," she curtly replied. "This is what I do. Stay away or I'll never forgive you." She abruptly turned and ran up the stairs.

"She's gone now," Draco drily told Theo, whose legs almost immediately gave out, leaving Draco to catch his weight. Draco slowly resumed lugging him up towards the Hospital Wing.

"If you knew, then why did you draw it out?" Theo asked, his pallor almost green.

"Because I found the stoic act stupid," Draco informed him. "And I figured that if you were _really_ hurt, you'd drop the act."

Theo slowly shook his head. "Just lost a bit of blood and the wounds sting like a _bitch_ and it's not getting any better. In fact, it's getting worse in a way that… never mind. Pomfrey will set it straight."

Draco pursed his lips at Theo's words of choice to describe the pain. "Always so eloquent."

"Give me a break," Theo growled. "I was just stabbed by a fifth-year Hufflepuff girl."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. Put like that… he was glad it hadn't been him. Living that kind of stigma down would be _impossible_.

"You're remarkably unconcerned," Theo observed, "that Hermione might be in danger."

Draco's back stiffened and he immediately sobered. "It's out of my control," he bit out. "What should I do? Wring my hands and fret? Whatever will happen, will happen anyway. Worrying won't help anyone. Hermione has fought… things… before and she's always survived. If there's fighting, she'll be ok."

"She's a brave one," Theo mused, appearing to change the subject. "I guess Gryffindors usually are, but she's braver than most. She's never going to accept cowardice in her man."

Draco saw where this was going. "Don't start."

"She'll be on the frontline of every battle she sees. But, of course, I guess _someone_ has to cook dinner and look after the children."

"Keep it up and you'll find yourself bleeding out on these stairs."

Theo chuckled. "No, I won't. Hermione wouldn't forgive you if anything happened to me."

"I'll claim we were attacked. Maybe I'll even borrow your transparent stoic act." Draco didn't even try to hide his scowl.

"Good to know you have my murder planned…." Theo was slowly sagging, getting even heavier, his eyes appearing to want to roll back.

Draco was becoming just a little bit worried.

"Yes, isn't it?" Draco muttered, not pursuing the argument. He thought for sure that now the conversation would be dead until they reached the Hospital Wing, but no such luck.

"She wants you to choose her over your family, you know," Theo said.

"Does she, now?"

Draco did some mental calculations on how long it would take them to get to their goal. The answer was: too bloody long. Before they got there, Theo would either bleed out, bore him to death, or goad him into murdering him. Draco sped up a little, grimacing. For someone relatively skinny, Theo sure was heavy enough.

"You do realize you can't have both. You can't have your family _and_ her." It was barely more than a faint mumble. "They don't mesh. Having one means turning your back on the other. Until you realize that, you can't have either."

Draco gritted his teeth. "Shut up," he ground out.

Theo chuckled again and then gasped and doubled over, nearly toppling Draco to the floor.

What now? Draco didn't really know what to do after he'd managed to right them both again. "We're almost there, just… be stoic."

"It burns." Theo seemed to force the words out.

"Well, yes. Gashes like that tend to sting and burn. Especially with the cloth rubbing against the open wound. You just have to bear it."

"No. That's what I thought, but it's been getting worse and… it _burns_!"

Draco took a second to look at Theo. His muscles all seemed clenched, there was a thin layer of perspiration on his face and his pallor really did seem almost green. Maybe the wound had been worse than it had seemed? The thought worried Draco some. "We're almost there. Just one flight of stairs left," he soothed.

With some effort, Theo obediently helped move them a few more steps forwards, but then he doubled over again with a hiss.

"We're almost there," Draco repeated.

"Poison," Theo forced out through clenched jaws. "That little bitch must have used a knife with some sort of poison on it."

"It's a slow one if she did." Draco managed to get Theo back on his feet and get them moving again. Never had the Hospital Wing seemed further away.

"Not that slow. I've never been stabbed before and it's very possible the sting and burn and nausea was the poison all along. And the spots I've been seeing… should have known…."

"Nausea?"

"Pain makes some people nauseated. It never happened to me before, but I didn't think anything of it."

"For someone very smart, you're a dumb fuck."

Theo laughed, the sound harsh and forced. "At least when I sit this one out, I'll have a really good excuse. Considering the warning I gave, I'll even be considered a wounded hero." Each word was strained as if it took great pain and effort to form them, but trust Theo not to spare the digs for that measly reason.

"Try dead hero if you keep this up," Draco muttered. "Besides, we don't know if there's anything to it."

"Still a hero."

"For what good it'll do you."

Theo managed to muster up the ghost of a smirk. "I don't know if you noticed, but Hermione was awfully concerned about me back there."

"You were bleeding! She would care for anyone who was bleeding!"

"And it had nothing to do with you wanting to talk and her wanting to get away from that?"

"Oh, look, what a pity! We're here now," Draco drily said, all but hurling Theo through the doors to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey was immediately all business. Draco sat down on a nearby bed and scowled.

It really bothered him that he hadn't got around to telling Hermione anything of importance. He'd been drawing it out and now… now nobody knew if he'd ever get the chance. Lots of things could happen tonight. Somebody could get hurt. Hermione might decide to up and go somewhere he couldn't reach her to fight her war. Weasley could show unexpected courage and self-sacrifice and win her heart.

Draco honestly hoped he would be hexed to smithereens before he had to watch _that_ scenario.

Besides, it might be nothing. Tara Stanwood was kind of insane. It had seemed harmless up until now, though. She'd most of all reminded Draco of a _very_ talkative Luna Lovegood, only with less brains.

Suddenly, Theo arched off the bed he'd been placed on, making a strange, strained, whimpering sound. Draco blinked and watched Madam Pomfrey's ministrations on the nasty red swollen gashes for a few seconds before it occurred to him that nobody had told her about the sneaky poison.

"There was poison on the blade," he helpfully volunteered.

"And how do you know that?" Pomfrey asked.

Draco scowled. "I didn't put it there, if that's what you mean. He said it burned and made him nauseous and see spots or something. And he looked like his muscle cramped at some point too, but that could have been the pain." That was a fairly accurate description, wasn't it?

Pomfrey wiped her hands on her apron. "Good grief. That's vague enough that it could be at least a dozen poisons and I'm no expert. We'll have to hope that a bezoar will work." She secured the patient and then scurried off to find one.

Draco silently sat there, watching Theo while she was gone. Theo seemed beyond words. He didn't scream or moan or thrash or anything else that Draco might have supposed, but his fists were tangled in the sheets where Pomfrey had magically bound his wrists to the bed, and they were clenched so hard the knuckles were white. Occasionally, his body would tense or even arch again, but if it hadn't been for the look on Theo's face, the perspiration, and the unnatural paleness, Draco wouldn't really have figured it was that bad.

He supposed he should warn Pomfrey that tonight might be busy.

He marveled at how calmly he was taking all of this.

Pomfrey came scurrying back and resolutely forced the bezoar down Theo's throat. Theo resisted, attempting to turn his head this way and that, but Pomfrey had a firm grip on his head. Eventually he relaxed.

"Either it cured it or you killed him," Draco commented. "Either way, it helped!"

Pomfrey turned on him, fists on hip, "You'd better explain this one well, young man," she said.

Draco resented the accusation, but he forced himself to stay level. She had reason to mistrust him. "They may be here again," he calmly said. "Death Eaters. And I had absolutely nothing to do with it. _He_ told us and Hermione ran off to warn the Headmaster, while I got set the tiresome task of saving his life and keeping myself out of trouble."

Theo tried to move his hand in his sleep and then frowned when he couldn't. Pomfrey got momentarily distracted, freeing him.

"I suppose that means you didn't kill him," Draco muttered. "More's the pity."

"Which side are you on?" Pomfrey coolly asked. He supposed it was understandable, considering his rather inappropriate jokes, but he just didn't seem to be able to help himself.

"I'm… I'm…." Draco frowned. This should be an easy question, shouldn't it? It was such an easy question for everyone else. "I'm on the fence," he finally said. "I'm useless to everyone all at once."

Sometimes the truth sucked.

* * *

Hermione doubled over, gasping for air. She got her fair share of exercise on a day-to-day basis, but running to the Headmaster's Office would have been bad enough even if she hadn't run straight to Harry afterwards, and then to the office of every single Professor unaccounted for to personally deliver the message from Dumbledore that they were on high alert.

She'd also told whoever she'd met on the way about the threat, so word was definitely spreading to the other houses, even though some of the students seemed as skeptical as she felt. Now she would be going to the Great Hall where they were already setting up evacuation for the younger students.

Hermione wouldn't mind having a few Death Eaters obediently lining up so she could kick their evil arses.

_Even Draco's father's?_

Yes. Even Draco's father's. If she ended up having to hurt or even kill Lucius Malfoy, things would probably get awkward between Draco and her, and Draco would most definitely not be interested in her in any way—even if he may have been before.

But that didn't matter. This was what mattered. The Big Picture. She needed to help save innocent people from being future victims of unspeakable evil. If Draco couldn't understand that… well, she knew he couldn't understand that. He wasn't brought up to understand it. He was brought up to only look out for himself and his family. He was working hard on changing who and what he was, but he would die for his family and nobody else. He wouldn't understand the need to put herself on the line for nameless, faceless people potentially suffering undefined hardships at some point in the future.

Which was why she'd all but begged him to get out of the way. He could _die_ if Death Eaters turned up. They all could, but he didn't even believe in any of the causes either side would fight for today, and if he were for some reason unable to defend himself…. She shuddered. He certainly didn't deserve to meet such a pointless end.

She straightened. She'd rested long enough. She could make it to the Great Hall. Grasping her wand in one hand—just in case there were anyone evil on the way—she took off.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**It didn't take a lot to figure out that _she_ was Pansy Parkinson. Why Ron still cared so much about Parkinson was a mystery, though. "She might just be down in the dungeons."**

**"No… I checked. The Slytherin dormitories are wide open and very empty. Most of the buggers already chose to leave."**

**It was Hermione's turn to hesitate. "You do realize that… if this is really true, she may not be on _our_ side, right?"**

**Ron looked away. "I'm not a fool. I just want her out of here."**


	98. Chapter 98

**Kupo got Big Boy shoes and sandals. He loves them soooo much and constantly wants to go for walks. Not fair that at 18 months he's hardly even a baby any more. :(**

**I am really busy fic-wise. The fic that I never finished for Draco Big Bang still isn't finished, but I have enough (65,000 words so far) to at least post the first chapter on Draco's 30th birthday (this Saturday). I will post it on Hawthorn & Vine. It will not affect Bracelet posting. I won't put my other fic on a posting schedule, but H&V has a tracking feature if you want to be alerted about updates.**

* * *

"She really wants you to go out there, you know," Theo's lazy drawl was saying from the pristine white hospital bed.

"I liked you better when you were dying," Draco absent-mindedly muttered.

Theo smirked. "Sorry. Not today."

"More's the pity."

"Yeah, I heard you say that." Theo was as unfazed by this whole thing as he possibly could be.

"Why don't you just go back to sleep?"

"She wants a hero. A champion. Think Weasley will get the chance to impress her?" Theo smirked again, but the fatigue was showing in the lines around his eyes.

Draco groaned and rubbed his forehead. Theo really enjoyed goading him above all else, it seemed. "She said she wouldn't forgive me if I did go out there. She'll be here any second and then she'll see that I did as she asked."

"Yes, good boy!"

Draco scowled. "And if there's danger out there, I'm sure Potter wouldn't mind making me collateral damage, so I see her point."

"Isn't it lovely to have so many friends?"

"I find it heart-warming."

"You really think this is the way to keep her respect?"

Draco barked a laugh. "Respect? I don't know if she even does respect me. So far I'm just the miserable, lovesick bloke she can turn to whenever she needs her ego fixed."

"Why would you even want her if that's the truth?"

"I just do," Draco said with a sigh. "And, you know what? Let her look down on me for being a coward. She said I would be distracting her if I went out there, and I can't have that happen. I won't risk anything ever happening to her just so that I might look more like a romantic, reckless fool. It's… not that important what she thinks of me as long as she's ok."

Theo looked at him quietly for a minute and then said, "What if you could save her by going out there?"

Draco closed his eyes, trying to block the thought of Hermione alone and defenseless. "She's got people much more qualified than me," he quietly said. "Potter and Weasley have her back. She doesn't need me. Not for this—not for anything, really, but certainly not for this."

Theo didn't reply for a few minutes, but then he said, "I wouldn't take that chance."

Draco squeezed his eyes shut. He had to take that chance. He had to. She was fine. Theo was just messing with him as usual. If Draco went out there, Hermione would be mad at him, and that was _exactly_ what Theo would want. The git.

* * *

Hermione peeked around the corner. No one there. Of course not. So far there hadn't been anyone anywhere. If they were coming, it seemed like there still was some time. She still chose to carefully sneak around the corner and down the hall, though. You couldn't be too cautious.

Dumbledore had taken the threat extremely seriously and had immediately arranged for the Ministry to be notified before the Owlery could potentially be cut off. Aurors would probably be dispatched right away. If the Death Eaters were here, they wouldn't just be here for whatever Dumbledore had agreed to guard some time ago; they would be here to kill the Headmaster and most likely Harry too and whoever else was a thorn in their side.

Hermione was definitely a thorn.

"Hermione!"

She jumped, her heart almost stopping as she whirled around, prepared to hex whoever it was.

"Easy, Hermione," Ron said. "It's me." He looked around them and dragged her into a classroom but didn't close the door.

"Have you seen Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yes…. He's down in the Great Hall, organizing things."

Hermione nodded. "I figured. What are you doing up here?"

Ron hesitated. "I was looking for you, actually."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You knew I'd find you."

Ron scowled. "I _was_ looking for you. And, also… I was… I hadn't seen _her_ down there, ok? I was worried. Harry told me to go find her, because I was useless to him right now. I can't help it. She's not going to be as competent as you if anything happens."

It didn't take a lot to figure out that _she_ was Pansy Parkinson. Why Ron still cared so much about Parkinson was a mystery, though. "She might just be down in the dungeons."

"No… I checked. The Slytherin dormitories are wide open and very empty. Most of the buggers already chose to leave."

It was Hermione's turn to hesitate. "You do realize that… if this is really true, she may not be on _our_ side, right?"

Ron looked away. "I'm not a fool. I just want her out of here."

Hermione curtly nodded. "I'll go help Harry, then; you join up when you're ready."

Ron looked slightly puzzled. "That's it?"

"We don't have time for anything else right now. I understand." Hermione briskly began walking towards the door, but before she made it through, it was blocked by the petite blonde form of Pansy Parkinson.

_Ew_, Hermione thought, but then she decided to grab a firm hold of her wand—just in case. This was just a tad too convenient. Had Pansy followed them here?

"Granger!" Pansy said as if relieved. "I heard voices, is it—oh. It's you." There was an unmistakable flatness to her voice as she identified Ron.

Hermione noticed how the relieved look on his face faded and his back stiffened just a tad. "Parkinson…" he said as if indifferent to her.

Hermione's heart bleed a little for her friend. It was hard to be in love with someone who treated you as if you were worth less than dirt.

"Granger," Pansy repeated, "have you seen Draco? I looked all over and—" Pansy's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled a little. "He has to be all right! But they're all out to kill him and that _Potter_ certainly doesn't care to protect him and… do you know where he is?"

Ron's back stiffened a little more and Hermione felt herself go rigid as well. Then she scolded herself. Pansy was right to worry about someone she cared about when he might be in legitimate danger.

"He's fine," Hermione said as gently as she possibly could to someone she loathed. "He's at the hospital wing—"

Pansy gasped.

"I said, he's _fine_," Hermione repeated, unable to keep the note of irritation from her voice. "Theo was the one who got hurt. Draco took him to the hospital wing and they should be waiting it out there. Soon Aurors will arrive and some of them will stand guard up there, both to protect any wounded and to protect him. But even without the Aurors, there are some truly spectacular traps around that place that I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will activate if there's any danger."

The relief flooding Pansy's features was almost palpable. "I'll go to him!" she announced and immediately turned on her heel and almost ran.

Hermione didn't know what to say to Ron and was almost afraid to even look at him. "Well…" she slowly said, casting about for anything to say, "at least you found her."

"Yes," he replied, slightly hoarse, "and she'll be safe from harm there. Safer than almost anywhere else."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ron squared his jaw and raised his chin. "I don't have to worry anymore. She's safe. With someone she loves. I can help Harry without being distracted now."

Hermione felt a slight pang at _'with someone she loves_'. Wouldn't it be nice to just sit back with those you cared about and let someone else handle the danger?

Well, that was why she did it. So others could sit back. So others wouldn't have to fight.

She smiled at Ron, feeling the smile strain her lips in an almost unnatural way. "Ready, then?"

He nodded. "Just… give me a minute. I promised to check for stragglers and I almost have this floor covered. You can go ahead, but be careful. I'll catch up."

She scoffed at him. Since when was she not careful? She cautiously stuck her head out the door and then worked her way down the hall.

Pansy had been so worried for Draco's safety. It would probably be quite the reunion with tears and hugs and maybe even kisses. There had been kissing between those two before. True, Draco hadn't been that fond of public displays of affection then, but he'd loosened up some and this _was_ a rather dire situation. It was exactly the kind of situation where one's emotions would be very strong and poorly hidden.

Yes, they would almost definitely kiss with the relief of seeing each other unharmed.

Hermione tried to ignore the stronger pang she felt at the thought of Draco kissing Pansy. _It didn't matter!_ It was the Big Picture that mattered, and in the Big Picture, people's love lives had no place. In the Big Picture, there would be a battle, if not tonight, then very, very soon. Harry had revealed to her that he'd been working far more intensively on neutralizing Horcruxes with Dumbledore than she'd ever suspected. Hermione would never forgive herself for not noticing this sooner. In the Big Picture, Hermione had to be prepared to fight. In the Big Picture, nobody cared who Draco Malfoy was kissing.

Except she did whenever she let the Big Picture slip from her mind.

Frankly, she was sick and tired of Draco kissing other girls and sending extremely mixed signals about what he wanted. There, she'd allowed herself to think it. Thoughts weren't going to hurt anyone and if someone was going to stab or curse her tonight, she might as well get it out of the way. She might as well admit it. Irrational as it was, she supposed she must somehow have enjoyed the attention, because she was feeling something that must be jealousy. It certainly wasn't pleasant.

Damn it. She'd worked so hard _not_ to get here and now, in the space of one lethal threat and one really worried ex-girlfriend, she had ended up here anyway. It would have been so much better to remain convinced that she wanted nothing to do with that stupid git.

Only, now it scared her to think that he might disobey her and he might get his sorry arse in the way of a spell, and she'd never get to tell him again that she didn't want anything to do with him.

He'd never know, though. If they both made it through the night all right, she would just grit her teeth and get through this silly, illogical infatuation too. He never needed to find out.

She simply didn't trust him not to repeatedly stab her in the heart, reach into her chest, grab the shreds and squish them to a pulp, before yanking whatever was left out, throwing it to the floor, and stomping it into the carpet.

She wished she did trust him. She wished he was worth trusting.

But he wasn't interested in having a really good relationship with her. At most, he would spend a limited amount of time with her until he found the—pureblood—witch he wanted to be with. That was what he'd said. He had made it very clear that he needed to be with another pureblood because the overall cost of neglecting that duty was too high. And she had too much pride and self-respect to go for the kind of fling that was left.

Even if the sex was really great. And the cuddling, when available, was almost even better.

Even if he kissed her as if he cared about her.

Even if….

She rounded a corner and gasped as a human form was in her path. Belatedly, she realized that it was just a suit of armor. Caught up in stupid teenage romance drama, she _had_ been careless, she had forgotten to check for a clear path, her wand hung limply in her hand, and she could have been in deep trouble.

So not worth it.

It was all _his_ fault.

And, worse—she had been dawdling. She had to do better than this or she could die. Her friends could die. Draco could die. Innocent people could die. She gripped her wand more tightly, narrowing her eyes.

Time to be more focused.

* * *

Draco tried not to look at the door anymore. Just… not look at it. If he didn't look at it, then it didn't exist, right? Ok, maybe it was childish, but as long as he didn't look at the door, his own existence was tolerable.

_I hope she's all right!_

His existence was _barely_ tolerable. It had been much too long. She should have been back from talking to the headmaster by now. He refused to leave the premises before he saw her again, even though Pansy had tried to get him to come down and evacuate.

Draco glanced over at Pansy. She was sitting on the edge of Theo's bed, arms crossed, looking at Draco. He supposed he should be glad to hear what else she had told him. Blaise and Tracey had already left. It was kind of strange to know that they were just gone, but of course they wouldn't have wasted any time. Hermione was with a friend. A really _good_ friend. Weasley. He had her back. They had been all cozy.

He wanted to punch Weasley's face.

"He's really tense, isn't he?" Pansy lazily commented. She had been visibly out of it when she'd arrived here, but after making sure that Draco was ok, she had calmed considerably.

Theo grinned. "You have no idea."

"Don't tease him," Pansy scolded. "The poor boy will have an apoplexy."

"I will _not_ have an 'apoplexy'," Draco ground out. "That's something old wizards have."

"You look like you're about to have fits."

"I'm about to have _a_ fit, if that's what you mean!" Draco snapped, ignoring the way Pansy immediately looked wounded. She always looked wounded when it suited her.

There was a tap on Draco's shoulder and when he turned around, more than a little confused, Madam Pomfrey thrust a washbasin and some bandage at him. "I've seen the Aurors approaching," she informed him, "and I'm going to prepare now and make sure I'm stocked. You tend to your friend's wounds. Fresh bandages will be just the thing, I think."

Draco's jaw dropped open. "_Me_?"

"Yes, you."

"Why me?"

"Because you saw me take care of the wounds the first time."

He _had_ seen it. Madam Pomfrey had been unable to close the hand wound entirely due to the magical properties of the poison, but the wounds were no longer potentially fatal. "But I'm not trained in healing," he objected. "I'll kill him!"

The elderly nurse shot Draco an exasperated look. "You remove the bindings, wash the wounds gently and reapply new bindings. It's mostly the hand wound you need to be wary of—he'll want full mobility—but some badly wrapped bandages will hardly make any difference. Just don't attempt any magic. You!" She pointed at Pansy, who obediently got to her feet. "You'll help me stay stocked from the supply room. Come with me now and I'll show you."

Pansy shot Draco a helpless look but obediently followed Madam Pomfrey.

Draco stared down at the things in his hands with very real horror. "What was _that_ about?"

"My bandages don't really need changing. They're quite fresh."

"No, but she'll kill me if I don't. Why?"

Theo shrugged. "Maybe she got sick of you sitting around, staring, and wanted you to get busy. But you'd better wrap those things right; I don't fancy being uncomfortable."

Draco scowled. This was nuts. Everyone was nuts. And now he was the school nurse's helper? Ugh. That was a witch's job!

Theo grinned. "Yeah, I know," he said in response to Draco's horrified look. "It's almost worse than being stabbed by a fifth-year Hufflepuff girl, isn't it?"

Sometimes Draco really hated Theo.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**"Oh, they won't find out," Theo very calmly said. "Because if you tell anyone, I will tell Hermione what keeps screaming at me from _your_ head."**

**"What? That I'm in love with her? I've been _trying_ to let her know, you know."**

**"No, that you try to tell yourself that you're sure about wanting this, but you're not. You write your mother for her blessing, but you're unwilling to mention the possibility of marriage. You get Hermione alone, and rather than telling her how you feel, you stall and try to get her to admit to any scrap of feeling. She could come barging in here and declare her undying devotion, but you'd still want to keep your distance. You're _still_ scared of truly acknowledging your feelings and committing to her."**


	99. Chapter 99

**We bought a black Wii. It was totally impulsive and it's not like we can really afford it, but it's awesome. I've kinda wanted one for ages. :)**

**Sign-ups for the Reverse Challenge Phase 2 on Hawthorn & Vine are still open. You should check it out and consider joining if you're a writer. I did. I found that without a challenge in the back of my head, I procrastinate too much and don't get things done. Also, challenges are fun. :)**

* * *

Things only got crazier as the night progressed. Shortly after Draco had managed to press every single sore spot in and around Theo's wounds with a wet cloth and then a dry cloth and redress them, the Aurors arrived. Two of them very quietly began guarding the double doors leading in.

Less than an hour after that, a different Auror brought in the first student who apparently hadn't been lucky enough to be warned in time to make it completely to safety before he was attacked.

This was Draco's first big shock. The threat was real. Death Eaters were at the castle. _Students_ were _injured_. He had a horrible flashback to the previous year where he had been so full of hubris and had allowed these very same madmen to roam the halls.

None of the Aurors cared to chat, and barely any of them spared him a glance, so he couldn't count on learning anything from any of them. Fifteen minutes after the first student had arrived, another student was brought in. Then another. It was a sporadic occurrence at best, but it was _happening_. And the injuries were ranging from superficial to very nasty-looking.

After an unconscious little girl—who to Draco looked way too young to even be attending Hogwarts—had been delivered with a big wound on her leg that had Madam Pomfrey muttering under her breath and crinkling her brow, Draco couldn't help but ask, "Wouldn't it be better to take the Healing to the fighting? Won't they just eventually come here anyway?"

He honestly didn't want to know the status on the leg.

"She will be fine," Madam Pomfrey said. "It's just a normal wound. She will limp from here, but the muscle can be regrown completely at St. Mungo's. It will hurt, but she'll recover."

Draco's gaze flickered. "What? That's not what I asked."

"Sure it was," Madam Pomfrey calmly said, "but if you insist: If the fight is over as quickly as I'm sure they hope, the Death Eaters won't need to pay attention to us until after, as we're all officially out of the battle and nobody brought here will be in a shape to rejoin the battle. If someone capable of fighting receives a minor injury, the Aurors have the training to deal with it on the spot. The Death Eaters will be preserving manpower and leaving tormenting us to last. In short: we're safer up here than down there. If the fight _isn't_ over soon, we have an emergency escape route directly to St. Mungo's. We can't use it yet, though, because we can't risk them finding out about it before it's time and closing it off for anyone else."

"I can't just sit here!" Draco muttered. It was beginning to get to him. He couldn't—_wouldn't_—fight this battle and there was nowhere else for him to go. He couldn't even go to his blasted room. He wished it would all just be over and Hermione would be safe. He really didn't like how she liked to look for trouble. Didn't she have a care for how he felt? He was worried sick about her and if anything happened to her…. Nothing could happen to her. He simply didn't see how his world could remain if she were ripped from it.

In short: He was scared, and he didn't want to be!

"Then I suggest you do something," Pomfrey said, matter-of-factly, her voice seeping through his thoughts. "There are plenty of fresh bandages as well as disinfectant over there."

_Bandages?_ "But I—"

"I am only one witch. The less time I have to spend on the insignificant scrapes, the more time I have to take care of the really ugly hexes and curses. You can either be 'useless' out there or useful in here."

She got up to check on a patient moaning at the other end of the room, and Draco miserably stared at the bandages.

He would _never_ live this one down.

* * *

Theo was laughing. Or, rather, chuckling. Draco didn't think Theo knew _how_ to outright laugh. Besides, this was annoying enough. Draco gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it.

"You're fine, stop blubbering now," he coldly told the faceless—he really didn't want to know who they all were—boy, who had been crying all through the treatment of his minor injuries. There was a lot of that going around. The children up here were scared and Draco wasn't exactly a nurturer.

Surprisingly enough, the boy seemed to take comfort in the harsh words.

That annoyed Draco even further.

"Aw, isn't that sweet?" Theo commented.

Draco threw a bloody washcloth at him and smiled with satisfaction when he noted Theo's disgusted widening of eyes and sneer.

Almost instantly, Draco got swatted on the back of his head for his troubles. "Stop that!" Pomfrey chided. "It's unhygienic. If he's troublesome, we'll put him to sleep."

Draco instantly brightened. "Oh, may I?"

"No. But if you're good, I'll let you poke his wounds again."

Draco beamed at the elderly nurse. She had a sense of humor! Who knew! She also seemed to have softened towards him as he had reluctantly begun helping out, but the worry-lines around her eyes were a clear indicator that her mind wasn't anywhere near him or Theo. It was most likely on all those people that might be bleeding somewhere downstairs.

All those people that might be dead.

_Children_ that might be dead.

The Aurors that came up rarely stayed long enough to give them any kind of intelligence, but Draco had noticed one, to his mind, very significant thing.

Mostly smaller victims were brought here. The ones that could easily be carried by a strong person at a sprint while only one or two other Aurors guarded his back. Or possibly they were just the ones too young to be able to defend themselves fast enough and efficiently enough not to get hurt in the first place. It couldn't really be that any injured Auror or wannabe-hero would be able to get the treatment they needed on the spot, could it?

He wondered whether Hermione would be brought up if she were badly hurt.

He hoped so.

He refused to believe that she could die.

If he told himself this often enough, he might even be convinced.

* * *

Even Theo had gone quiet. Pansy had fallen asleep. Draco was staring down at his hands. He couldn't really see them; it was too dark. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that those who could should rest, and all lights had been extinguished for now. It had been at least an hour since the last student had been brought in, and Draco should probably get some sleep too. But how could he sleep when he didn't know what was happening?

She could be hurt.

Bleeding.

Dying.

He'd seen a fair amount of blood tonight. He'd even attempted to do some actual healing on a couple of wounds. It had gone all right. He suspected that Pomfrey would have a fit if she knew about it, though. Things had just been so hectic at one point….

Two students had died.

They were still here. There really wasn't anywhere else to put them, he supposed, but he didn't like that they were still here. Just lying there under thin, white sheets. Unmoving. Unbreathing.

He tried not to look at the beds. At the too-still forms under the linen. They had been put in the far corner of the room, but they were still there, their silent presences screaming at Draco.

Madam Pomfrey had cried. Not in front of anyone and not while there was work to do, but he'd seen the red and puffy eyes after she'd been to the storage area for a few minutes.

If two students had died up here, then how many more…?

Draco felt queasy. The war had always been this shadow looming on the horizon, and last year it had been close, but this… this was intolerable. He didn't think whoever invented war had ever looked a twelve-year-old girl named Olivia in the eyes and told her everything would be ok just minutes before some remnant of a curse finally finished her off.

Or maybe they didn't give a shit. You-Know-Who himself certainly had no mercy.

Draco knew he shouldn't have looked at their faces.

"It's ok to feel it, you know," Theo quietly said from his bed.

Draco snorted. "That's rich, coming from you. When was the last time you felt anything?"

Theo was quiet long enough that Draco thought he might not answer. "I'm still human," he finally said.

"I'm sorry," Draco muttered, not entirely convinced of the fact, but not feeling like bickering. It didn't matter, anyway. There were two corpses in the room. Those two had had parents. Siblings. Maybe pets. But none of that mattered, because now they were _dead_.

Theo was quiet again. "It's fine," he finally said with a sigh. "You're not the first to assume I don't have feelings. In fact, most people do."

Draco shrugged and then realized nobody could see anyway. "It might help if you didn't hide it so well."

There was a faint rustle, as if Theo shrugged too. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I have no friends, no family to speak of, and the one girl I wanted seems to be afraid of me. Do you know how that feels?"

"Yes."

Theo laughed again, that distinct chuckle, but it was very much without humor. "I forgot. The difference is, _you_ insisted on making it so, even though we all tried to warn and stop you. Me… I'm just frightening because I'm me. Because I creep people out."

"You didn't creep Hermione out."

"No. She was attracted to me. Some of them are, but mostly for the wrong reasons. She didn't think like that, though. She liked me. Too bad she likes whiny brats more."

Draco chose not to comment on that last bit. "So, it's true, then? You're a Legilimens?" This was something that Draco had suspected for a long, long time, but never could get a straight answer on. He would be very surprised if he were the only one suspecting it, though, because Theo always knew way too much about everything.

Again a painfully long pause. Then, "No. Yes. Maybe. I think it's a little different. It was my manifestation of magic before Hogwarts. I just learned to control it. I had to, or my father would probably have killed me himself. Especially after I learned that he probably killed my mother."

Draco was nodding, before he remembered that Theo couldn't see. "Stanwood didn't tell you they were attacking, did she?" he then quietly asked.

Theo didn't seem very enthusiastic to reply. "No," he finally said. "She was uncharacteristically quiet tonight, but I admit that I didn't give it any thought. I just enjoyed the silence. Then, by chance, I looked into her eyes a second before she stabbed me and that was how I knew her intentions and saved my own life by putting up my hand."

"You could have told us you knew the Death Eater threat was real."

"I could. But then Hermione would have questioned how and why, and there would have been a big to-do about it. I prefer that no one else knows."

"Yeah, I'm sure the Ministry really won't like it if they find out what you can do. I'm sure they'd be uncomfortable having an unaccounted for Legilimens—or whatever you are—out and reading everyone's mind all the time."

"Oh, they won't find out," Theo very calmly said. "Because if you tell anyone, I will tell Hermione what keeps screaming at me from _your_ head."

"What? That I'm in love with her? I've been _trying_ to let her know, you know."

"No, that you try to tell yourself that you're sure about wanting this, but you're not. You write your mother for her blessing, but you're unwilling to mention the possibility of marriage. You get Hermione alone, and rather than telling her how you feel, you stall and try to get her to admit to any scrap of feeling. She could come barging in here and declare her undying devotion, but you'd still want to keep your distance. You're _still_ scared of truly acknowledging your feelings and committing to her."

Draco closed his eyes, for all the difference it made. "Hey, don't blame me for being cautious," he muttered. "We might not be good together as a couple. We might not work out."

Theo snorted. It was a very un-Theo sound. "It's the same for every single relationship, Draco; yours wouldn't be different. But Hermione isn't going to stand for it. If you don't commit to _something_, you're going to lose her before you have her. And I promise you that I'll be there to pick up the pieces, and you won't be getting them back."

"Thanks."

"You're very welcome."

Draco frowned to himself. "I can't figure out whether your advice is ever to help me or whether you're just trying to manipulate me into to making an arse of myself so you can get your shot."

"A little bit of both. Except, I'm never trying to help _you_. I'm trying to give her what she wants. I'm sick of this thing being unresolved, leaving no room for anyone else to act in."

Draco tried to process that. "You tend to read _her_ mind?"

"No. Her thoughts are a very fast babble and give me a headache even without them being about you. Also, getting eye contact with her for even a second can be difficult when she feels she has something to hide. But she slept with you, did she not?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't always mean—"

"No, it doesn't. But why else would she sleep with you? She couldn't trust you not to humiliate and ridicule her. She couldn't be sure of your feelings towards her. She probably didn't even realize just how much of your free time was spent thinking about getting into her knickers."

"Hey!" Draco felt his cheeks heat up. He had _not_ thought about it _that_ much!

"You really need a hobby, you know."

Draco scowled. "I resent that you dig around in my brain."

"Not much to dig in, if you ask me."

"I really dislike you."

"Yes. I'm not too fond of you either."

There was a pause.

"Thanks," Draco then said, figuring that, after all, Theo had in some roundabout way just tried to reassure him with regard to Hermione.

"Don't mention it. And by that, I do mean shut up."

Draco smiled. It was a vague smile, but it was there—for all of two seconds, until he looked up and noticed the very vague outline of Olivia's form under the white sheet again.

The battle was not over.

* * *

**"I hope there's news soon," Theo muttered. "Or better yet! I hope they're done soon so I can be rid of you."**

**"You're so charming when you've been stabbed. Someone should do it more often!" Draco shot right back.**

**"Are you two still fighting?" Madam Pomfrey asked, emerging from her office, looking so very, very tired. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were sweet on one another."**


	100. Chapter 100

**I love fandom arts. Especially drawings. I'm a little sad I missed out on partaking in the DBB on that level. Man, that would've been fun. Still, Dollface is making a banner for _The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge_ (COCK) and I suppose that's kind of arts too. :) And for the Reverse Challenge Phase 2, I'm writing a story for some arts, so yay for that as well!  
**

**Ramblings aside. THIS IS CHAPTER 100! And the final will be 103. Where the 103rd is kind of an epilogue. Yeah. So... DUN DUN DUNNNN!**

* * *

Only one more child was brought to the Hospital Wing later that night. The Auror who brought him told Pomfrey that there would probably be no more children; the rest were either old enough and competent enough to be fighting in groups, or they had made it out of there by now.

He also told her in a hushed voice—which Draco hadn't been supposed to be able to hear, but he'd deliberately edged closer to the crack in the door to Pomfrey's office to eavesdrop—that most of the wounded children hadn't actually been hurt by Death Eaters. Theo's warning had come soon enough that the Aurors and the Order had been able to protect the students from the obvious danger. No one had counted on some of the more trusting children being lured away and attacked by class- and housemates aspiring to be Death Eaters themselves, though, and for that, a few Muggleborns had actually paid with their lives.

The Order was trying to keep it hushed that they were aware of the organized treachery, so the betrayed students that were lucky enough to still be alive were asked to keep quiet for now. But the Aurors _had_ managed to collect a frightening number of names and had secured most of the guilty parties. They were at a loss with what to do with them, however, considering that the vast majority of the witches and wizards was underage.

They might have to set up a facility just for them, because no one in their right mind would send a fourteen-year-old to be guarded by Dementors. At least that was how this Auror personally felt.

Draco thought that anyone who got a good look at what had been done to Olivia might not have such qualms about sending someone to the Dementors because of their _age_. He muttered as much as he stalked back to Theo's bedside.

"That's not fair," Theo murmured, low enough that neither Pomfrey nor the Auror could hear him. "Most of them were probably terrorized into doing it, same as you were back when _you_ caused mayhem."

"Yeah, but I didn't do anything personally, did I?" Draco hissed. "Certainly not to little girls."

"It was pure _luck_ that nobody died because of you that night," Theo reminded him. "Don't be so quick to judge."

"_Excuse me_, if I judge someone for being a cold-blooded murderer," Draco sarcastically retorted.

"You're willing enough to make excuses for your father."

Draco's back stiffened. "Father is not a murderer."

"Oh, right. He's that other thing where you kill people you find inferior. What is it they call that, again?"

"No! He can be manipulative, controlling and ruthless, but he is _not_ a murderer. He serves a higher purpose."

"It's just too bad that his purpose is met by genocide," Theo calmly replied.

Theo could be _such_ an annoying bugger.

"I… I know that he's not an innocent," Draco reluctantly admitted. "I know he's even come close to killing a few times when provoked. But he _never did it_."

"How can you know what he's done the past year? What he's doing tonight?"

Theo was being frustratingly composed and sensible and somehow that rattled Draco far more than a shouting match would have.

"Fighting against Aurors is not the same as murdering unsuspecting children!" Draco insisted.

"Wasn't he going to kill Hermione back when she wore the Bracelet? And hasn't he been trying to off her and her friends before?" Theo asked, squinting slightly as he caught Draco's eye.

By then, however, Draco had had enough of Theo's intrusions and kept up his mental guard as taught to him by his aunt. Even if Theo's ability wasn't exactly Legilimency, Occlumency seemed like a fair defense. And if one were to judge by the momentary frown on Theo's face, it was working. "I—no!" Draco stammered, slightly distracted by shielding his thoughts, but also not sure how to defend his father. "I-I don't think that was what he meant to do. He probably just… meant to Obliviate her or something."

"Your father knew the bond made you care for her. She was a threat to your line. She still is. It would make sense if tonight he sought her out first thing to kill her. Preserving her serves no purpose. The logical course would be to eliminate the threat." Theo was about as passionate as if he'd been talking about the weather.

"If he hurts her, I'll never forgive him."

"How noble of you. But has it occurred to you that it might be too little too late? She'd still be _dead_."

"And even though I wouldn't touch him, he would be dead to me," Draco calmly replied. For someone very smart and clever in every sense of the word, Theo sure had a hard time understanding that Draco couldn't just barge out there and kill his own flesh and blood. Apparently the lack of any kind of closeness in Theo's family had left Theo with a blind spot when it came to certain aspects of love and loyalty.

Draco couldn't really decide whether that was sad or scary or both. What would someone who didn't understand love and loyalty be capable of? He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring into space. He didn't really appreciate all these new insights. They were scary as hell.

"I hope there's news soon," Theo muttered. "Or better yet! I hope they're done soon so I can be rid of you."

"You're so charming when you've been stabbed. Someone should do it more often!" Draco shot right back.

"Are you two still fighting?" Madam Pomfrey asked, emerging from her office, looking so very, very tired. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were sweet on one another."

Draco's mouth dropped open and he gave Pomfrey his most horrified stare.

"Oh, did you hear that, honey? We've been found out," Theo said, perfectly deadpan.

Draco snapped his jaw shut and glared at Theo. Yeah, he was definitely evil. "Sorry, mate. _That_ is rather one-sided."

"You break my heart."

Pomfrey had stopped listening and was moving around, checking on the sleeping patients. Apart from the two that had died and the one that would need to go to St. Mungo's for muscle regrowth, they were all doing just fine. Still, Pomfrey had opted to give them all sleeping draughts so they'd sleep through as much of the battle as possible. She'd given Draco, Theo and Pansy a choice since they were all of age and Theo was the only one of them actually wounded, but Pansy had been the only one to take it. She'd said that now she knew Draco was all right, she just wanted it to be over.

Draco wanted it to be over too, but he didn't fancy being unconscious if there was any news about Hermione or his father. So he sat there, and waited, and bickered some more with Theo just to pass the time.

* * *

The sun was rising. That meant it must be around five o'clock, Draco supposed. There had been no news, no more casualties, no commotion, nothing to indicate what was going on.

The not knowing was killing him, and not for the first time, he was considering going out there. Just to see what was going on.

"You should sleep," Pomfrey said, bringing him a glass of something he supposed could be a sleeping draught.

"I'm not tired," he said, pushing the concoction away.

"Of course you are. Everyone is."

He scowled. "Then why don't _you_ sleep?"

"I'm doing my job."

"Well, I'm doing my job too! I'm being a coward. I'm doing it rather well, don't you think?" If his bitterness was showing, it was just too bad.

"Don't be silly."

"She told me to stay here," he defensively said.

"She sounds sensible."

"I'm not sure I would have gone even if she hadn't told me not to." He almost dared Pomfrey to call him on his cowardice.

"Now you sound sensible too."

Draco snorted. "But she's a Gryffindor. Theo is right. She probably did want me to come out a hero. She's never going to want to be with me now."

Pomfrey tutted and picked up the glass that Draco had very clearly rejected. "Then she's not worth it."

Draco blinked. "Excuse me?"

"People that tell you to do one thing but expect you to do another are usually more trouble than they're worth. And if she can't respect that you have no desire to fight in a battle that has people you love on both sides, then she doesn't respect you _or_ your feelings anyway. Good riddance."

"But—no! She's not like that! Why are you badmouthing her?"

"I'm not. I only really have a vague idea who you're talking about. But if she were to react the way you said, then this would be true, no?"

"I—you—she… maybe, but it's more complicated than that!"

"It always is." She patted his shoulder and then turned around to put the draught away and check on her charges once again.

Draco scowled. Adults! They always seemed to think that everything was so _simple_, when in reality it was anything but! He wasn't going to waste his breath telling Pomfrey that it didn't matter if Hermione understood why he couldn't fight. He didn't _care_ if she understood. He just wanted her to want him regardless, and she wasn't going to. But trust an adult not to understand that. They never understood these things.

* * *

The sun was up, the day had begun, but everyone that had been given the sleeping draught were still snoozing. Draco was sitting on an empty bed, staring into space, not able to will his body or brain into action. Even Theo had become quiet some time ago.

All the digs had been made, there was nothing left to say.

* * *

Draco was tired and he was hungry, but he refused to sleep or eat. This didn't help his overall disposition and he was snarling at anyone but Pomfrey. He didn't quite dare go _there_ yet, considering that the woman had some fairly powerful potions at her disposal. He just couldn't take it any longer. Maybe he could drag Theo with him out there and use him as a shield? That ought to work. Well, until the first Killing Curse at least. After that, he might have to find another shield.

Theo drew in a harsh breath and Draco turned to let him know that he should butt out of his thoughts, when he realized that Theo was staring at something that wasn't in Draco's direction.

Something near those damn doors Draco had been trying to ignore. Reluctantly, he followed Theo's gaze and then sucked in a breath of his very own.

It was _her_. She was looking tired and a little worse for wear, but she was alive and well! Relief made him feel so dizzy that only the desire _not_ to look like a complete ninny in front of her kept him from falling down.

Theo was first to speak. "Hermione," he said. Nothing else. But just from the way he said her name it was obvious that he'd worried every bit as much as Draco had.

Draco resented that fact more than anything.

Hermione slowly came into the room, looking battered and exhausted.

Draco couldn't help it. In a few steps he'd reached her and was squeezing her tightly—maybe too tightly. He didn't care. He just needed to _feel_ her. She was here. However she felt about him, she was _here_. She was all right. And he might have to tie her up before she went out and changed that fact. It didn't even matter if she wanted to be with him or not anymore.

She was all right. He was happy.

"You're suffocating the Head Girl," Theo's sarcastic voice was saying. He was probably just jealous, but Draco decided to ease up on her anyway. Who knew what she'd been through; squeezing the life out of her would probably not be such a good idea.

So far, she hadn't made a single sound.

He slowly began to completely let her go. He couldn't hold her forever. He wished he could, but he couldn't. Reluctantly, he lifted his head and looked down at her. She was looking back up at him with big, sleepily surprised eyes. Irresistible eyes. Eyes that made him want to bend down and—

"So, what news do you bring, Hermione?" Theo asked.

Hermione's head jerked to the side to look at him and then she blinked and shook her head as if to clear it, before stepping back and fully turning away from Draco to address the question.

Draco noticed the small smirk on Theo's face and swore revenge. He'd been so close—_so_ _close_—to being allowed just one more kiss. He scowled and leaned against a bed to hear whatever she had to say.

"It's over," she croaked and then cleared her throat. "It's all over."

"You won?" Draco asked, mostly to get her attention back on him. He'd missed her so badly and been so afraid of what might happen to her that it was all he could do not to grab her again. He gloomily suspected that he'd feel like this for a while.

"I really doubt the Dark Lord would send Hermione as his emissary," Theo coolly replied. Annoying bugger.

"Oh, I don't know," Draco drawled just to be contrary. "She doesn't exactly look ecstatic, does she?"

"No," Hermione muttered with a sigh, sitting down heavily on Theo's bed. "We won. I'm just too tired for it to have really sunk in. And with our losses… I don't feel it yet."

"Who did you lose?" Theo quietly asked.

Hermione shook her head. "You wouldn't know most of them. Aurors. Ron's brother, Fred. People aren't exactly celebrating down in the Great Hall right now."

"But your friends, Potter and Weasley, they're all right?" Draco asked.

Hermione snorted half-heartedly. "I hate to disappoint you, but yes."

Draco was actually hurt that she'd assume he wanted her friends dead. It was true that he didn't care about them but _she_ did. How could she think he'd wish that kind of pain on her? "I'm not disappointed," he just muttered, while turning his back on her and taking the few steps over to reach the window.

Actually, right now he _was_ a little disappointed. Disappointed that she hadn't responded when he'd hugged her. Disappointed that she still voiced nonsense about him wanting to hurt her. Disappointed that she was sitting so close to Theo.

But still elated that she was all right.

He needed to control his responses better before he made an arse of himself. Again. Obviously she hadn't missed him the way he'd missed her and he had to give her some space. He couldn't be as damn clingy as he wanted to be right now, so he had to stop looking at her. Maybe then he could stop wanting to touch her, stop wanting to feel her warmth and breath.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**On an impulse, she leaned forwards and pressed her lips against Theo's. It was just meant to be a peck, but before she could pull back, his hand came up and kept her head in place, his lips becoming more demanding. Hermione allowed this for only a brief moment, before she pulled free.**

**"What was that about?" she scolded.**

**Theo was wearing a full-on smirk now. "Just getting my money's worth. After all, not likely to get another chance, am I?"**

**Hermione glanced in the direction of Draco, but found the spot he'd occupied before empty. Shocked, she jumped to her feet and frantically looked around, just to find that he was nowhere in sight. "Theo!" she groaned. "He's gone! You did this on purpose, didn't you?"**


	101. Chapter 101

**Just remember: if I'm dead, I can't ever give you the ending.**

* * *

Hermione was bone-weary and all she wanted to do was sleep for a million years. Her brain was already happily asleep, so she'd spent a good few minutes staring after the suddenly moody Draco when Theo touched her arm. She forced her head to turn. Slowly, so very slowly.

"He's been tending to the wounded," he said with a slightly raised voice, nodding towards Draco.

Hermione wondered why he would speak so loudly to her for the second it took Draco to utter a foul expression and glare at Theo.

She didn't understand his upset. "Really?" she rather dreamily asked, feeling a smile spread on her face. So he did have good in him. He'd helped those in need, when he could've just sulked or left or get killed. She kind of wanted to hug him again just for that.

Draco looked anything but pleased and abruptly turned away, muttering about ways to murder Theo.

Hermione decided she really must be tired, because she didn't understand his reaction at all. Was he upset that she thought something nice about him? Why would that upset him?

"What about his father?" Theo asked, breaking the new trance she was falling into.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, almost jumping to her feet and doing the best to shake the cobwebs from her mind. "Oh, of course! Draco, about your father…"

Draco shot her a resigned glance from his spot by the window. "Don't bother. Your side won, so someone probably had to kill him, right?" He sighed deeply and stared out the window again. "I won't lie and say that it's ok, but I guess I understand. He wasn't exactly an innocent."

"No, he's not dead," Hermione began. "He—"

Draco straightened and turned back. "Really? You managed to capture him? Is he in danger of getting the Kiss?"

"Could you let me finish, please? He is _not_ in danger of receiving the Kiss. In fact, he may get a full pardon. He's the reason we managed to wrap things up as relatively painlessly as we did."

Draco opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again just to say, "How?"

"Well, he wanted you. I refused to tell him where you were—"

"You faced him yourself?" He'd visibly paled and his fists had clenched.

"—_Let me finish!_—and when it seemed to become clear to him that you were under our protection, he offered us a deal. He said that being a Death Eater held nothing of interest for him anymore now that he was robbed of his wife and son and, besides, You-Know-Who was proving more and more unstable. Oh, and your aunt was getting on his nerves. _She_ is dead, by the way. Can't say I'm sorry for your loss."

Draco shook his head, looking more confused than sorry about the loss of his batty aunt himself. "How did he help you?"

"He lured single or small groups of Death Eaters into ambushes where we could safely capture them. It really saved everyone a _lot_ of bloodshed."

"Imagine that," he muttered, turning away again.

Hermione frowned and plunked back down on the bed. She'd imagined that he would be pleased, even exalted, to hear about his father. Moody git. "I'm sorry I don't have as good news about your father," she said to Theo. "Unfortunately, he survived too."

Theo's lips quirked into a half-smile. "That old tosser will survive anything. I swear he'll outlive me."

"If he does, it'll be in Azkaban. I don't see any pardons in his future."

"Well, that's always something."

Hermione glanced back over at Draco. He didn't look like he was paying any attention to them. She didn't understand. After that almost desperate hug and the way he'd looked at her and… why was he all but ignoring her?

"So you finally decided to like him, then?" Theo asked in a very low voice, sounding dismayed.

The words acutely embarrassed Hermione. It really was the dumbest thing. "Sorry," she muttered, lowering her eyes and feeling her cheeks heat. Good thing that Draco wasn't likely to be able to hear what they said as long as they kept their voices lowered.

"I've regretted breaking up with you, you know. Especially the way I did it… It was stupid. I was jealous. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I should have talked to you instead. You wouldn't have developed feelings for him if I hadn't pushed you in his direction back then."

"Does all that really matter now?"

He gave her a pained look. "It does to me. Can you really see the two of you being together?"

Hermione shrugged. "I… don't know. Probably not?" Most likely not. But it didn't matter. She'd survived a war; she could survive this.

"Then be with me. I'll give you everything you want. Everything you need. I won't hold your feelings for him against you as long as you'll try to love me too."

"I—I don't know…" Hermione glanced first at Theo and then over at Draco's back. She hated being so weak, but right now the offer actually sounded quite tempting. Be with someone who understood she had feelings for someone else and still wanted to be with her regardless. She could do with some romantic happiness.

But then she realized it wasn't realistic. He would begin to resent her if she wasn't the girlfriend he hoped for, she would resent him for not being someone else entirely, and it would all end badly. She didn't want to end badly with Theo.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He sighed deeply. "Oh, well. How about a kiss, then?"

She stared at him.

His lips twitched slightly. "I knew my odds, Granger. They were never that good. I'll live."

Hermione couldn't quite help the giggle that escaped from her lips at Theo's way of dismissing his own offer. She blamed a very emotionally exhausting day and night with no sleep whatsoever. Still, laughing felt good. It felt normal. It felt like this nightmare might actually truly be over.

On an impulse, she leaned forwards and pressed her lips against Theo's. It was just meant to be a peck, but before she could pull back, his hand came up and kept her head in place, his lips becoming more demanding. Hermione allowed this for only a brief moment, before she pulled free.

"What was that about?" she scolded.

Theo was wearing a full-on smirk now. "Just getting my money's worth. After all, not likely to get another chance, am I?"

Hermione glanced in the direction of Draco, but found the spot he'd occupied before empty. Shocked, she jumped to her feet and frantically looked around, just to find that he was nowhere in sight. "Theo!" she groaned. "He's gone! You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"Look at it this way," Theo quietly said. "He can't pretend he doesn't care now if you go after him, can he?"

For a few seconds, Hermione stood undecided, but then she bolted towards the doors.

* * *

Draco stumbled out the doors, hardly seeing where he was going. The pain in his chest was overwhelming.

_She was kissing Theo_.

Well, so much for not knowing. Now he knew. She'd chosen Theo, the wounded hero, over Draco, the indecisive git.

Unable to stand himself anymore, Draco sped up his pace until he was racing down the halls, flying down stairs. By the time he'd reached the entrance hall, he wasn't even sure where he was going. He didn't want to go to his room, but didn't want to be around people either. There were people in the castle. Aurors, Order members, students. He assumed the bulk of them were in the Great Hall, though, considering that this was where people seemed to be coming from or going to.

Nobody seemed to be guarding the doors out, so he made a dash for them. Fresh air would be just the thing to get his mind off Hermione snogging Theo upstairs.

Outside, he kept running up until he got a stitch in his side. Gasping for air, he leaned against a tree and looked around. He'd made it to the lake. In fact, this spot seemed awfully familiar. He frowned and stared at the tree, trying to figure out why and then it hit him—oh, wasn't that just ironic? In a sense this was where it had all begun. _This_ was where Hermione had been sitting that night after the Quidditch game. The night he'd forced her to come inside with him. The night he'd first kissed her.

He sighed and sat down. They would all probably be sent home now, and it was just as well that he wouldn't have to be around her or places he'd been with her anymore. It was over. For real this time. He was out of options.

Carefully, he reached down in his pocket and pulled out the last letter from his mother. The tone of it was far from happy, but she'd finally softened enough to agree to not immediately hex him _or_ his 'unsuitable witch' if they should show up on her doorstep together.

The fact that she'd even given them that much of a chance was proof of how much Narcissa Malfoy loved her son. Too bad that it was all for nothing.

Draco hadn't really realized how much he'd hoped for a different outcome until now. He'd tried to keep himself prepared, but he hadn't been. Not at all. Somehow he'd actually thought that it would work itself out in the end.

Stupid. Life never worked itself out. Not for him. He wasn't one of the heroes. He hadn't done anything noteworthy in his life—unless you considered failing at everything as noteworthy.

He covered his eyes with his hands. He was tired and wanted for this all to be over. He just wanted for the feelings to _stop_. They were clogging up his chest and his throat and his mind, and he didn't know what to do about it. He had to collect himself, though, because at some point today, Hermione was sure to seek him out for some kind of _talk_ and he had to say all of the right things not to mar _her_ happiness.

No sooner had he finished the thought, before he heard the sounds of someone approaching. _No! Not yet!_

"Malfoy," she gasped as she reached him. "What's the rush?"

"Sorry," he muttered, slowly removing his hands and blinking a few times as he forced the pain back. "Didn't know I was needed right now. How did you find me?"

"Saw… window… run…" She seemed unable to be much more coherent than that as she was still gasping to regain her breath.

Draco couldn't help but smile a little. "You didn't have to run, Granger; I'm not actually going anywhere."

"Why did _you_ run?" she asked, almost accusing, straightening up now that she seemed to have gotten her breath back.

"Oh, that…" He looked out over the lake, quickly coming up with a story. "Been cooped up all night. Needed to move."

"And you felt the need to just leaving without saying anything for no particular reason at all?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you seemed to want your privacy. I didn't figure you'd miss me. Certainly didn't mean for you to have to come after me. What is it you need from me?"

"Oh." She looked away, seeming uncomfortable. "I guess… I need to finish the conversation we were about to have before the battle?"

"Right now?" Draco asked, not feigning his surprise. "Don't you have enough to do with Theo, battle aftermath, sleeping, and, I don't know, figuring out what to do the next time You-Know-Who pops up?"

"Next time?" Hermione frowned. "There won't be a next time. He's gone. Really gone. All fragments of his soul are destroyed. Dumbledore has been working on it all year with help from Harry."

Draco blinked. "Really?"

"Really. It was this whole… secret thing."

"Wow. That's… good news. Mother will be happy not to hide anymore."

"And what I _want_ to do is finish our conversation!"

"You don't think life or death takes precedence—?"

"Life or death is _over_. You said you had something to tell me. It must have been important. So tell me now!"

Draco hesitated. He couldn't tell her the truth. He didn't want to ruin her happy ending with his own unhappy one. "It's actually of no consequence now," he hedged.

"Let me be the judge of that." She crossed her arms.

He suppressed a sigh. She was going to force him to lie again. He quickly glanced down at the letter in his hand. No names were mentioned and his mother had refrained from referring to Hermione's blood status for once, merely calling her 'unsuitable'. "I just wanted to show you this," he said, vaguely flapping the letter at her. "I finally got my mother's blessing to-to be with…" _Pansy_? No, he'd been with Pansy for years and, besides, he was done using Pansy. "… Astoria," he said before really thinking and cleared his throat. "You don't have to fear my antics anymore."

"A-Astoria?" Hermione looked shocked. Then she stepped forward and snatched the letter from him before he could object. "Your mother is less than pleased," she then muttered as she skimmed the words, sounding dejected. "W-why would seeing Astoria be an issue?"

"Well…" he said, slowly getting to his feet to buy time. "Her family is poor and doesn't have any influence. As far as pureblood witches go, I could still do much better on that score. And the fact that I asked my mother means that I'm serious. _Really_ serious. I… just thought you might like to know."

"I see," Hermione muttered, looking dazed.

"I'm sorry, I have to… have to go!" he forced out and then quickly brushed past her to get away from her, the situation, his own lies, everything.

This would be the last lie he told to spare her. He couldn't do it anymore. It hurt too much.

* * *

Hermione swallowed. Then she swallowed again. She was staring out at the lake, but didn't see anything. She'd been so _sure_. For a while there, she'd been so sure that… that….

Maybe she hadn't been completely wrong. He did seem to have some feelings for her. But what did it matter if he had feelings for her when he was willing to ignore those feelings in order to keep pursuing ideals of blood purity?

She wished him all the best of luck. She really did. She just never wanted to lay her eyes on him ever again. She'd had enough. If he couldn't look past his own prejudices long enough to give them a chance, then he didn't deserve for her to care. She deserved better than to pine for someone who would despise her for something as insignificant as being born to non-magical parents.

If she was feeling a little teary-eyed, it was only because she was so exhausted she could barely stand up straight, and she would now be going back into the Great Hall to face that too many people she cared about had lost their lives tonight.

Silly her for wanting to see if she couldn't gain something good first before facing those losses.

It didn't matter. She didn't need him. Her friends would be there for her, as she would be there for them too.

Straightening her back to the point of pain, she slowly and purposefully walked back.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**Draco obediently got to his feet. "What about her?" he asked Theo, nodding towards Astoria.**

**"Don't know; don't care," Theo simply said and then turned to walk back out. Draco noticed that he favored one side and still walked carefully.**

**Draco followed him out. "Think you could find out for me?" he casually asked.**

**"No."**


	102. Chapter 102

**1) This chapter was the right length, but then I decided to toss a part of it and rewrite it and then it became too long to fit my pet project of always having similar chapter lengths. I allowed it to stay that way because it's the last chapter (part 103 doesn't count as a chapter since it's an epilogue, neener :P)**

**2) I may re-think my stance on FFnet enough to sometimes post low-rating ficlets etc around here in the future, but if you like my more mature things, Hawthorn & Vine is the place you want to stalk. Also, I'm spending way too much time in their shoutbox. Swing around for a chat!**

**3) I hate posting this, because this is... the end of an era for me. :( It's hard to let go.**

* * *

Groaning, Draco slowly came too. His head was killing him and he was feeling nauseated. A quick bit of math told him that this was probably due to him having neither eaten nor drunk anything for far, far too long. He opened his eyes and glanced over at his clock. It was four o'clock. Probably in the morning, considering how dark it was.

He didn't even know if anyone else was still in the castle. He'd just walked straight in and down to his room, where he had thrown himself onto the bed.

He really didn't care if anyone else was left. As long as there was still food in the kitchens, he'd be quite happy to be the sole inhabitant of Hogwarts for a while.

Although, come to think of it, perhaps his parents would appreciate learning that he was fine. Oh, well, the Owlery was unlikely to have been emptied.

Alas, once he emerged from the kitchens, it quickly became apparent that the place was indeed _not_ abandoned just yet and as soon as he was spotted, he was taken aside and all but interrogated.

Fortunately, he had a really solid story for what he had been doing during the fighting, a story that could be confirmed by Theo, Pomfrey and even Hermione. Unfortunately, none of those people could be reached for hours, so he just had to sit there and… sit. Under guard.

This amused him, considering how freely he'd roamed around right after the fighting was over.

He wasn't the only one being questioned in here. The Hall had been cleared and there were small groups scattered all over the room. One student in each group being questioned. He did a double-take as he noticed that one of the students was Astoria.

"These students… are they the ones that… you know?" he quietly asked 'his' Auror, a young woman whose mouth had a bitter set to it. He couldn't quite come out and directly ask if they had been the ones to betray their own house- and classmates. The memories of hurt and dying children were still too fresh.

"How do you know about that?" she sharply asked.

"I told you. I spent the night at the Hospital Wing. Are… are you really sure about all of them? Truly?" He found it hard not to keep glancing back at Astoria. Was she really the type to do this? To lure people into trusting her and then betraying them—_killing_ them?

The Auror seemed disinclined to answer at first, but then said, "Most of them, yes. Some are just stragglers, though. We'll know about them—and you—soon enough."

"What about her?" He pointed at Astoria.

"I can't tell you that. If Hermione Granger verifies your story, maybe you can ask her."

He'd really rather not. He supposed he'd find out eventually—by reading the Daily Prophet if nothing else. "I can't believe Astoria would do that, though," he muttered to himself.

"Yes, well, so say all the survivors of the attacks about their attackers. That was what made it so effective."

"Ah. Still."

"You can let this tosser go," a cool voice said over Draco's shoulder. "He doesn't have the ability _or_ conviction to act on anything."

Draco winced. Theo sure had a way of putting things. If only he knew.

"All right," the cynical nameless Auror said. "You're free to go."

"Wait, you're taking _his_ word for it?" Draco couldn't help but ask. "Didn't you notice that whole freaky dangerous thing about him? Plus his dad is a Death Eater, you know."

Theo slapped the back of Draco's head a little more forcefully than he had to. "I took a knife to my gut, you stupid git, plus _Hermione_ completely trusts me, which is enough for these people. Now get out of here and quit wasting their time."

Draco obediently got to his feet. "What about her?" he asked Theo, nodding towards Astoria.

"Don't know; don't care," Theo simply said and then turned to walk back out. Draco noticed that he favored one side and still walked carefully.

Draco followed him out. "Think you could find out for me?" he casually asked.

"No."

That struck Draco as enormously unfair. Theo had the girl, why wouldn't he do Draco this one tiny little favor? "Come on, Theo, I find it really hard to believe that she could have done it, and she really doesn't deserve—" He cut off with a surprised yelp when he suddenly found himself flung against the wall.

Theo was looking livid—which was scary in itself—holding Draco in place with only the use of his wand. "I do not _care_," he hissed. "Do you understand that yet, Draco, or do I need to spell it out some more?"

The magic tightened uncomfortably around Draco's every limb, making every single one of his muscles ache and it was almost impossible to breathe. "W-what?" he gasped. "Why are you..?" He groaned as the magic tightened another fraction.

"Yesterday, you ran off without knowing the whole story _again_, and then hurt Hermione _again_. For that, I ought to kill you."

The magic tightened even more and Draco became so focused on ignoring the pain and somehow still getting oxygen that he couldn't respond, couldn't do anything. "Can't… breathe…"

"You're too stupid to breathe."

"N-no, didn't mean to…"

"You never mean to. But you do it anyway because you're too big a coward to even face the slightest risk of rejection."

"I'll… tell… her…"

"Oh, don't do _me_ any favors." Theo abruptly removed the pressure, making Draco fall to the floor, gasping for air, and then bent over him, whispering, "You're too pathetic to go to Azkaban for, but rest assured that if there weren't this many Aurors around, I'd have killed you." He turned away to leave.

"I had her in the bracelet," Draco bit out. "I made her tell me she loved me."

"I know. That is one memory I had the misfortune to see."

"I could feel everything she felt… I didn't feel she loved me."

Theo laughed. "And you think your jewelry is infallible? Did you ever feel her devotion to her friends?"

"What?"

"She adores her friends. Did you feel it?"

Draco grunted as he tried to get to his feet but both his legs cramped up and he stumbled back down. "No, but that's hard to define. I felt other—"

"And love is so easy to define, is it? Not like what you might feel instead would be things like lust, joy, tenderness… but I'm sure you never felt any of that either."

"Wait…" Draco gasped, making Theo stop and half-turn with a raised eyebrow. "I thought… she kissed _you_!"

"And such a passionate kiss it was!" Theo sarcastically commented. "You're completely right. Nobody ever gave anyone a close-mouthed kiss on the lips without intending it as a declaration of love." Then he turned back and walked away.

"Fuck!" Draco struggled to get to his feet, groaning as the muscles in his legs still objected. "Wait! Theo, wait!" He limped after him. "Tell me where she is!"

"Not my problem," Theo coolly said, not stopping or accommodating Draco's slower speed. "Pansy, on the other hand, left for her parents' in a huff after she woke up to being completely abandoned by you. You really are smooth."

"If what you're saying is true and you're not just fucking with me—" Draco began, ignoring the part about Pansy. He'd have to owl her later.

"See, that's the problem," Theo interrupted. "It doesn't matter whether it's true or whether I'm just fucking with you. You're still an asshole who is only still breathing because I _really _don't fancy a trip to Azkaban to keep my father company."

"I want to fix this!" Draco argued, clenching his jaw and limping faster to keep up with Theo.

"You always do. But your fixes are almost worse than your initial fuck-ups. I say you leave that poor girl alone for once. She'll be fine. She was everywhere, taking care at everyone, _after_ your little talk. She doesn't need you."

"But what if I need her?"

"I couldn't care less about that."

"Come on, Theo!" Draco was beginning to feel desperate. "Even if she's decided I'm the biggest git in history and I'm not worth it, I can't have her thinking the wrong thing about me if-if she actually…"

"Why not? That you're a git is exactly the right thing."

"Yes, I'll admit to that, but I did _not_ actually ask my mother's permission to get serious about Astoria."

Theo abruptly stopped, turning on Draco with murder in his eyes. "That's what you told her you did?"

"Yes, I did tell her that, but the truth is I asked my mother's permission to be with Hermione. To prove that I meant it. I just… thought she'd feel awkward knowing that. Because I… jumped to conclusions." Draco grimaced. It all sounded so stupid now.

"And now she probably feels used and mislead." Theo looked as if he had just bit into something really unpleasant.

"Yes, and do you really want her to feel that way?" Draco was quick to ask.

"No. But I'm unconvinced that you will ever manage to make it better."

Draco scowled rather ineffectually. "I don't need your permission to talk to her."

"No, but you do need to know where to find her. See if anyone else will tell you where she is." Theo looked all too pleased with himself.

"If I make it worse, I'll allow you to hex me." Draco was officially grasping at straws now.

That seemed to catch Theo's interest. "Really?"

"Sure, any hex you want!"

Theo's smile was slow and very, very evil. "Well, in that case…"

This was almost guaranteed to become painful in more ways than one.

* * *

Hermione awoke with a start when she heard the door open. How long had she been asleep? She rolled onto her side to check her bedside clock and almost fell off the sofa.

Oh. Right. She wasn't _in_ her bed.

Still slightly disoriented, she sat up and yawned, feeling like she'd slept for all of five minutes.

She probably had.

As she rubbed her eyes, she tensed noticing the dampness. There was that too. The tremendous amount of grief and stress currently adding to her headache.

Losing so many of her friends and childhood heroes was hard. Especially when she hadn't truly had the time to process it yet. It felt like they all deserved to be mourned better, but she simply hadn't had the _time_.

"I'm sorry," the intruder quietly said. "I didn't know you'd be sleeping."

Hermione froze mid-stretch. She'd honestly done her very best to temporarily forget the existence of Draco Malfoy, although she hadn't been that successful yet. She just didn't want to deal with him right now. He was added stress she did not need. Not liking the disadvantage of sitting down, she half-stumbled to her feet.

"That's all right," she said, her voice gravelly from sleep. "That's why I'm here at the office. If people need me, I'm available. So what do you need?"

Suddenly he was right in front of her and grabbed her hand. She tried to get free when she felt the too familiar scrape of metal on her finger, but he was very determined and she had been caught off-guard.

She didn't want to wear it; the last thing she needed right now was to _feel_ him. It was bad enough that he was essentially holding her hand.

"I love you," he quietly said.

She jerked upright to stare at him. Did he really have to keep picking at her wounds?

"Please believe me. You said I always felt guilty when I lied, so can't you tell that I'm telling you the truth now?"

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered. She'd begun shaking all over and could feel that she was very close to having a breakdown and was only hanging on by a thread. It was too much. Everything was too much.

"Because it's important to me. Just please tell me that you believe me, even if you never want to see me again."

She slowly shook her head and heard his breath catch, the pain clearly coming through the ring. "It was never a matter of me believing, Draco. You didn't need to force the ring on me again; I would have believed you without. I knew of your infatuation and I suspected this… recent…" She choked on the words. "It doesn't matter."

She felt some confusion seep into his pain. "But Theo—" He broke off as something seemed to occur to him. "Damn him. He's played me for a fool again. I'm sorry. At least you won't ever have to see me again." He dropped down into a chair and stared down at the bracelet on his wrist.

Theo had said something? She swallowed. "You were honest, so I'll return the favor. Yesterday, I thought things could be different. I don't think Theo m-meant to lie to you. I really thought it could be different until you told me that you…" Again the words wouldn't come.

"It was a lie," Draco whispered, rubbing his face as if he were as tired as she felt. "I swear. The letter was about you. I have other letters to prove it. I just thought you'd chosen Theo. I had no clue it hurt you; I wanted to spare you."

Spare her? From what? She shook her head. "You generally don't have a clue about anything."

"I guess not…" He let his hands drop and looked at her with so much longing she had to look away. It hardly helped, though, because she could still feel it. "If I'd been better, would it have mattered?"

"I don't think that's—"

"Just answer me, Hermione," he pleaded.

She could hardly bear this feeling of desolation coming from him. Was this really how he felt? She had to try to soothe his pain. Even if he'd been a clueless git. "You're not being fair to yourself," she said. "You started out rotten, but you've vastly improved. You just spent hours and hours caring for those in need up at the Hospital Wing when you could just as easily have fled or killed people. You're a good person. I haven't thought you were bad for a while."

He dully stared at her. "So that's a no, then."

She shook her head. "Why do you insist on doing this? I said I'd thought that things could be different, didn't I? So why do you keep saying th-that I don't…" She couldn't say the words. If she said the words, knowing that nothing could ever come of it, it would hurt too much. She would lose something again.

"Don't what?" he whispered.

"No," she firmly said. "I've already said it's useless."

His jaw set and his eyes hardened as she felt a flare of annoyance and even anger from him. Why would he suddenly be angry? She was so confused.

"I don't know how to interpret that," he bit out. "But if you're saying what I _think_ you're saying, then you might have feelings for me, but you choose to ignore them based on some random assumption that it won't work. Like I've done for months, hurting both you and myself in the process. Are you really going to be that dumb as well?"

"Who said it was dumb of you?" she countered. "Maybe we needed to get hurt so we wouldn't take it any further?"

He shot out of his chair. "Further than what, Hermione? Further than making love and _falling_ in love? How much further can we take it?"

"W-we didn't make love; we—"

"Don't even finish that sentence! Don't even dare to try and take what happened away from me! So you may not have had the same experience as me, but that doesn't change _my_ experience!" He was very angry now.

Hermione noticed in a sort of detached way that her shaking had got even worse and then she felt her legs giving out and herself sinking down to sit on the sofa. How fortunate that there was a sofa right there, really. She tried to open her mouth to reply, but her teeth just rattled in her mouth.

Draco's anger quite suddenly evaporated. "Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, hesitantly taking a step towards her. "Was it something I said? Why are you crying? Please stop. I probably overreacted. I'm just so confused and… don't cry…"

She wasn't crying, was she? She raised a hand to touch her own cheek and found that it was wet. How odd. She didn't understand anything anymore. "Th-the ring…" she managed to get out.

He quickly—yet much more gently this time—grabbed her hand and carefully took the ring off.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, massaging her trembling hand between both of his. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have told you about my feelings, much less let you suffer them. I just… hoped…" He swallowed and looked down. "I can't seem to stop hoping that something will change. But I'll try if you want me to, I promise. Why are you still crying?"

Why was she still crying? She didn't know. She hugged herself, trying to make the tears and the shaking stop. She was such an illogical mess. It had barely even registered with her that the ring was off and Draco's emotions were gone because there were already too many emotions for her to contain inside.

Suddenly, she felt his arms around her, drawing her closer. "Forgive me," he muttered. "You need comfort, not more fighting… tell me who you need me to fetch to get better and I'll go away. Far away. And I won't come back." He stroked her hair. "I only want your happiness."

The tears began falling even heavier. He'd leave? She wanted him around so she could feel the pain and the possibility that if she just reached out…

Of course, she couldn't reach out. He might mean well now, but he would eventually hurt her so badly that he would break her.

She just didn't want him to go.

She felt her body slowly calm down as he was holding her, rocking her, petting her hair and muttering apologies. She looked up at him, and for a second got lost in his eyes.

"Tell me who you need," he whispered. "I can't stay any longer. I need to go."

No! She clutched onto his arm. No. His presence comforted her. "Just a few more minutes."

He shook his head. "I can't. I'm no good at this. I keep wanting to hold you closer, to kiss your hair and neck, to tell you that I love you. I'm fairly sure that considering your condition, that would be close to assault and… I have to go."

No! He couldn't leave! Before she had a chance to think it through, she pressed her lips against his. It was probably one of the saltiest kisses she'd ever shared, but it still felt nice and calming. After no more than a few seconds, however, he broke off the kiss with a groan.

"That's so fucking cruel, Granger," he whispered.

It was. She didn't understand herself. She should let him go, but she felt like she was unable to. Way to be strong. She detested this weakness in herself. This manipulative, self-serving weakness that had her clinging to Draco and kissing him.

"I'm sorry," she said, willing herself to let go of him. "I-it's been a rough couple of days."

He nodded and looked away. "You should get some sleep." He began extracting himself from her.

"Please don't go!" She didn't know where the words came from. Maybe the ring? No, she wasn't wearing it anymore. No excuses. She just didn't want him to leave her again.

He gave her a long, pained look and then said, "Either you're being incredibly selfish, or you have feelings that matter more than you thought. Now is your last chance to tell me—do you want me to stay or to leave? If you ask me to stay… it won't just be for now."

She swallowed and looked away. She didn't want to give him the power to hurt her. He'd already hurt her so deeply and so often. But then again, didn't that mean he already had the power to hurt her? Maybe she was just afraid that it all could be really, really good, and then one day she'd lose it all again.

Denying them both the chance was really the work of a coward, wasn't it? But being a coward was just so _safe_. Sure, it hurt, but she never expected it to do anything but hurt, so it wasn't so bad.

That wasn't Hermione Granger, though. As hard as it would be to take the chance, and as much as she could possibly lose, she had to go for it.

"M-maybe just try it?" she asked.

He stared at her. Just stared. Then quite suddenly, he bent down and kissed her again. She didn't resist. She _wanted_ him to kiss her. She _wanted_ that hand on her lower back to press her closer to him. She _wanted _his lips to caress hers like there was nothing else he would rather be doing.

He broke the kiss and whispered in her ear, "Don't fret. If things don't go the way you want them to, you can always attempt to get rid of me again."

Relieved that he accepted her change of heart so easily and without question, she looked up at him. "With poison?"

He grinned, but then the grin faltered and gave way to a thoughtful expression. "I shouldn't have lied. I really have been an idiot, haven't I?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "That's true." After all, he had managed to consistently send the wrong signals and say the wrong things for months now. If he'd been less of a prat, then maybe this could have been sorted ages ago.

"If I'm ever an idiot again, slap me!" he grandly requested, resting his forehead against hers.

"Oh, sweetie…" Hermione said in an exaggerated croon, delightedly noting Draco's wince, and running her hand through his hair and down to his cheek, where she gave him a light smack. "You will be."

Hermione was, after all, a realist.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

**There won't be a next chapter. And I wonder what could be in that epilogue? Hmmmm.**


	103. Epilogue

**This is it. D: It's been fun, everyone! And at times stressful, but mostly fun. I will miss this story... only not. It's so nice to finally be rid of it. Maybe I'll miss it later. XD**

**Thank you to everyone who's followed the story. What a ride, eh? Now if you don't hate the epilogue, you can tell all your friends that there's a new FINISHED Dramione in town. *hint*hint* Ok, self-pimping aside... let's get to the story.**  
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* * *

Two years later._

"Wait! Hermione… wait, for fuck's sake!" Draco caught up with Hermione and grabbed her arm, only to have her violently tear it from his grasp. "Come on," he tried to placate her. "It wasn't that bad."

She pointed an angry trembling finger in his face. "I am _never_ coming here again!" Then she turned and resumed her angry stalk through the garden of Malfoy Manor, no doubt aiming for the gate on the far side.

"You say that every time," he said, following her and grabbing her shoulders, this time refusing to let go. "I know Mother can be… a challenge, but…."

"A challenge? A _challenge_?" Hermione shoved ineffectively at Draco to get free. "I mean it this time! I'm through trying to appease that bitter old hag for your sake. If that's a deal breaker, then… well…." She looked away, letting the threat hang in the air between them.

He let go of her as if burned. "Why would you say _that_?"

"Oh, come on!" Hermione scoffed. "It's become more and more clear that the future of this relationship depends on how well I get along with your mother and I _don't_ get along with her and I never will. I'm done with it, Draco. I'm not going to continue to come here and just _sit_ there and take her poisonous little stabs at me. It would have been nice if you'd actually interfere on my behalf but no, that never happens, does it?"

He avoided her accusing glare. "Maybe if you didn't provoke her so badly…"

"_Provoke_ her? That's just… that's just great." She turned and began walking again.

"No, wait!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to an ornate bench overlooking a small aesthetic lake. After he'd made her sit down, he more quietly said, "You know how wearing that bracelet in front of her makes her see red. When you insist on doing it anyway, you shouldn't be surprised at her reaction."

"It's only because she doesn't want to accept that now it's mine and that we're together," Hermione replied with a slight pout. "Besides, it's not like I let you wear the ring."

"More's the pity."

She scowled at him. "It's invasive! If you want to know how I feel, you can ask me!"

He didn't need to do that right now. He knew how she felt, and none of it was good news. Getting her to get along with his family wasn't just hard—sometimes it seemed downright impossible. It seemed like he was really the only one interested in making it work. He sighed.

Hermione echoed his sigh. "I don't actually see the fuss, Draco. I mean, it's not like—" She cut herself off.

"Not like what?"

"Not like I'm doing anything to pollute the bloodlines." Her voice was filled with bitterness.

Draco didn't really want to address that directly. Not yet. "No, not currently, but you _are_ effectively stopping the line."

Hermione stared at him. "Me? All by myself? If that's how you feel, then why don't you owl Astoria Greengrass again?"

He groaned. "Don't start." They'd been over this a _million_ times; why didn't she see how silly it all was?

"Why not? You're more than willing to defend _her_." Hermione's jaw clenched and she chose to stare out over the lake, rather than look at him.

"That was different! You know they were charging minors!"

"And she was guilty, so she should have been charged!" she bit out.

"She was coerced! They'd threatened to hurt her family and… you _know_ why I couldn't just let them punish her. I knew how she felt. I thought you understood that."

"They didn't threaten her family; they threatened to hurt _you_, because she's _in love_ with you. You should have left it to her family and friends and Magical Law to sort it out!"

Draco sighed. "I never thought you could be this petty."

"Petty?" Hermione's voice was rising. This was never a good sign. "So, when your mother abuses me it's because I'm provoking her, and when I have problems with you running to your ex's aid it's because I'm _petty_. Anything else you want to add to the list? Any _other_ reason why we shouldn't be together?"

Again, there it was. The Threat. "Just _why_ are you so anxious to get rid of me?" he asked, unable to keep his own voice from rising as the uneasiness was rapidly becoming panic. She couldn't leave him!

"I'm not! You're the one who keeps dismissing my feelings!"

Oh, so everything was _his_ fault, was it? Of course! She couldn't possibly be overly defensive and unwilling to compromise! Draco felt his own fear turn into anger and his lips draw back in a snarl. "If that's how you feel, then why don't you go tell Theo about your _feelings_? I bet he'd appreciate that. Throw in some crying on his shoulder and you'll make his year, I'm sure!"

She blinked. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it's convenient how you keep seeing him!"

She gave him one of those looks that usually made him feel like he was an idiot, but it didn't work today. Today he was too busy being right. "Theo is my _friend_," she calmly said. "I see my friends. I see Ron and Harry too."

He scowled at the mention of Weasley. Like being reminded of him and Potter was supposed to be any better! "Theo's still in love with you."

"He is not."

"He is too! When was the last time he had a girlfriend?"

"Theo isn't much for seeing people socially."

"Except you."

"Would you stop it? This is getting tiresome." She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled right back at him.

"He insisted on hexing me for upsetting you even though we got together in the end!" Draco pouted at that memory. That particular hex had not only been painful, it had also been embarrassing and made Draco unable to get physical with anyone for weeks. And it had been easy to tell from the smirk on Theo's face that it had been fully intentional.

Hermione smirked too at the memory. The witch had it in for him today. "You kind of deserved it. Theo was just looking out for me," she said.

But that was the point! "He has no _right_ to look out for you! He's not your boyfriend!"

"Yet you insist you have the right to look out for Astoria? Are you _her_ boyfriend, then?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

Draco flinched. He'd walked right into that one. "That's different."

"No… it's really not…" Hermione frowned and then said, "It's really not, is it?" as if only first realizing. Then she chewed her lip, looking thoughtful. It was an adorable look, but Draco dreaded that it meant he would have to accept her friendship with Theo if he wanted her to accept his friendship with Astoria. He _really_ didn't like Theo. He especially didn't like Theo around Hermione.

"I just don't understand what happened! You've been this way ever since—" Draco cut himself off. "Oh." It seemed that maybe there was one particular conversation they had to have earlier than he'd thought. He wasn't too happy about that since he wasn't prepared, but if there was something he'd learned, it was that they needed to _talk_ about things that bothered them.

"No, don't do that. Don't make this about something else!" she said when she recognized that he was onto something. "It's not _really_ about some other thing. I promise you that your mother honestly is a pain in the—"

"It dates back even longer than I thought, doesn't it?" he quietly asked, ignoring her. "You weren't exactly happy at Blaise and Tracey's wedding."

"You were a git that day, if you'll remember correctly. You were so busy reassuring everyone that we weren't going down that road that it ended up a huge embarrassment to me. I was just fine when Harry and Ginny tied the knot. Remember?"

He shook his head. "How _could_ I remember? You banned me from the event!"

"Exactly." She was looking far too smug. Ok, fine. He couldn't know how she'd dealt with that since he hadn't _been_ there.

"You probably spent the whole evening dancing with _Weasley_," he muttered.

"I danced with him, yes. But I doubt his girlfriend at the time would have appreciated me doing so all night. By the way, Pansy looked quite lovely without her sneer. Too bad it didn't last."

Draco scowled. Never would he acknowledge that Pansy had ever given Ron Weasley the time of day! Even if it had been relatively short-lived and ended in an explosion that had literally sounded all over the wizarding world with an _interesting_ Daily Prophet front page. He could only hope she'd learned her lesson about freckled losers and wasn't planning on repeating her mistake.

"_And_ I never 'reassured everyone we weren't going down that road'," he argued, leading the conversation back to more relevant matters. "I just said we hadn't quite reached that point."

"Oh, please. 'Never' was heavily implied. Which is _fine_, it's what I always expected, but throwing it around at a wedding like that is bad form. Especially when everyone assumes I don't agree and sends me those pitying looks."

"That explains it even better," Draco said, glancing over at Hermione, who obviously was getting even more upset just remembering that day.

"Explains what?" she snapped.

He leaned back against the bench and tried to act casual, even though he really hated this recent turn of their relationship with all of his being. "Your moody attempts to get me to break up."

Hermione huffed. "That's absurd. If I wanted to break up with you, I'd just do it."

"Maybe you don't really want to and that's why you're trying to get me to do it?" he quietly suggested.

"You're making less and less sense."

Draco shook his head. "Even if you were fine with the weddings—which I still don't believe—you've certainly been temperamental and uncommunicative ever since Blaise and Tracey announced that they were having a baby."

Hermione's head whipped to the side and she stared at him. "You think I care about that?"

"Yes." And why wouldn't she? Most witches cared if they could have children. Hell, most wizards did too. It was only natural.

"I don't!" she announced. "It works for them. They're in love and they have not a care in the world these days. If they feel like they need a baby to make their lives perfect, then that's their prerogative."

"And one you don't feel you have."

"I don't _want_ those things right now. Things are only just settling down at the Ministry, and there is so much to do. If I suddenly popped off to have a baby holiday, by the time I got back, who _knows_ what would have happened? I would certainly have lost most of the influence I've been fighting to gain."

"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"I—" she seemed momentarily stumped "—no, it's just common sense, isn't it? My position at the Ministry is much too precarious. And then there's the financial side. I'm not at all sure I could support a child. But, of course, that would depend on who the father was and whether there would be any other family to help. For instance, the Weasleys have Molly to look after the children when—"

"I don't care what the Weasleys do!" Draco rudely interrupted, upset that it 'depended who the father was'. No! There would _be_ no one but him! "I can't believe you'd actually consider Ron Weasley before me!" That was _it_. He would have to persuade Blaise to give him what was left of his mother's poisons so he could off the red-headed bastard. He'd off Theo too while he was at it. Just to be safe.

"D-don't be absurd," Hermione said, actually looking confused. "I know it couldn't happen with you. This is why it's hypothetical and won't ever happen. You know that Ron and I are just friends."

"Yet you seem to have thought about having _babies _with him," Draco grumbled, quite unwilling to let go.

Hermione threw up her hands. "For crying out loud! I admit that I've considered what it would be like to have a family and maybe even be part of an already _existing_ loving family that isn't a part of another world, but isn't that natural when you give something up?"

"I thought you just said you didn't want it!"

She shook her head. "I don't want it _now_. But assuming that we aren't just together _now_, then… I have to make my peace with what won't happen _ever_, so that I don't suddenly in ten or twenty years realize that I missed out on something that I hadn't known I wanted. I'm just dealing with it."

Draco sighed heavily. "I thought I would have at least a couple more years before this became an issue."

"What do you mean? It's not an issue!" she insisted and then frowned. "And what do you mean 'a couple more years'? Did you not intend for us to stay together longer than that?"

"Of course I did! I do! But I had hoped to get my mother's approval first. A real one, I mean."

"You'll never get it," she said, her voice suddenly sad and quiet. "I'm sorry, Draco, but your parents won't accept a Muggleborn being with their son. They're not going to change their ways."

"You're not making it easier! Maybe if you'd be nicer to her—"

"Oh, back to that!" Hermione slowly stood. "It doesn't matter how I behave. Neither your mother _nor_ father will ever ever welcome me into your family. And if you should ever consider marrying me: don't. They will withhold everything from their money to their love to stop it from happening, and you're too dependent on both to do without."

Draco stood as well. "You underestimate me."

She smiled a little sadly. "I know you would try if you were forced to. But you would be miserable. What kind of relationship would that make?"

"And _you_ are miserable now," he pointed out. She was so stubborn! Didn't she understand that she didn't have to be the one to give everything up? There was nothing in this world he wanted more than her. Certainly not _money_.

"No, that's not true," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not miserable."

"Don't lie to me."

"It's really not that important to me."

"Liar." He stepped closer to her, so he deliberately could tower over her, and she was forced to look up into his eyes or seem weaker. His Hermione had never enjoyed looking weak.

She clenched her hands and glared into his eyes. "Fine, you want honesty? It stings a little, yes. But worse is the sting that I'll never mean enough to you to be worth the sacrifice. I _try_ to understand why you love that hateful, bigoted bitch you call a mother more than me, I really do; and I try _very hard_ to respect that she _is_ your mother and _should_ mean more—but it hurts to make all these sacrifices and be second in your life, only to be told that it's my own fault for _provoking_ her."

Draco was shocked at the sudden tirade. "I don't love her more than you."

Hermione just huffed and began walking again.

He hurriedly cut her off before she'd taken more than a couple of steps. "I love her _differently_ than you. She's my mother. She's my childhood. She gave me life and then sacrificed everything she had to save it. But… if she doesn't come around, I'll have to choose my future over her."

"That's not what she seems to think."

"She's just trying to scare you off. She should know my intentions. I've been… asking for things."

"What things?"

He shrugged a little awkwardly. He couldn't _quite_ tell her. Not yet. He wasn't mentally prepared to do it today. "Just a couple of things that I would like to have. And I've been asking around about work. So far, all I've found is a Ministry internship in Muggle Artifacts—" he pulled a face "—and training with possible eventual employment at St. Mungo's. This is also why I was hoping for a few more years. I really don't want to accept either of these so-called offers…."

"Malfoys don't start with internships," Hermione carefully said.

"I know. But once my parents cut me off, I can't rely on my name anymore, can I? After all, I'm not the one with the money and the influence. My father is."

"Cut you off? So, you…." Realization seemed to hit her and for once she didn't seem to know what to say.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Not happy?"

"Embarrassed, mostly." Her flaming cheeks and the way she avoided his eyes lent truth to her statement.

"I was never going to do this halfway," Draco quietly said. "I just… I wanted to preserve as much as I could. But if I'm going to lose you, it's not worth it. I honestly never would have started anything with you if I hadn't been prepared to take it all the way. That was why it took me so long to decide."

"Oh." Her cheeks turned an even deeper red.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, you could have told me this _before_ I went on a tirade, making me look like a complete bitch," she sheepishly muttered.

"Consider it revenge for you not being 'in the mood' for weeks now," he said, unable to hide a grin. He really did need to get her back for that.

"Oh, boohoo!" she said, rolling her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips as well. "I've had other things on my mind!"

"There was a time when you'd wake me up because you'd read about some position and wanted to see if it was physically possible."

"I remember that!" Hermione crinkled her brow. "I still call inconclusive."

"Hey, any time you want to try again, just let me know and I'll remember to stretch."

Hermione giggled a little and then looked down. "I'm sorry if my behavior has been very unreasonable."

"Oh, it has," he softly said, nodding. She should have talked to him about her worries, rather than just get defensive and push him away. What good would that ever do?

"Well," she muttered, snaking her arms around his neck. "If I'm ever unreasonable again, just slap me."

"Oh, sweetie…" he said in an exaggeratedly patronizing tone, while sliding his arms around her waist and then lightly smacking her bum. "You will be."

"Sap."

"Hag."

She grinned. "I love you too."

They were, after all, quite bored without each other.

* * *

**THE END!**

**Blame Maz for the fact that I kept the last line.**

**I get a lot of PMs asking me about the Silencio sequel since Bracelet is ending so I'll just say right here - I _don't_ mean to string you along and I _will_ write it (have I ever left you hanging yet?) and have in fact already parts of it written, but I have committed to fests and need to work where my inspiration lies plus I have RL responsibilities. As for where it'll be posted - Hawthorn & Vine plus probably Granger Enchanted and LiveJournal. But we're still talking months because I'm on a deadline with my Reverse Challenge fic (writing a story for a piece of art) and I wish I had the time to write more but I don't. :( I know I said after Bracelet but I didn't mean the very next day. I'm sorry if you interpreted it that way. All I meant was that I couldn't juggle two such HUMONGOUS projects in my head at the same time. If it's any consolation, I'm very much looking forward to writing it! It lives in me.**

**I suck at responding to PMs and gave up on responding to reviews altogether (scatterbrain with very little time) but I do read everything you say and it warms me. If you wrote a longer review and were never acknowledged, please don't feel like it was a waste. Chances are it made my day. I just didn't get around to telling you. =)**


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